Nothing But You
by supernaturalsam
Summary: A killer is striking the heart of Chicago targeting women who vaguely resemble Nancy. On top of that, her past is coming back to haunt her. Can she and the Hardys figure out what's going on before it's too late? CHAPTER SIXTEEN. COMPLETED 3/20/10!
1. Chapter 1

**Well, I've been away for a while but I thought I would get my feet wet and have another go at a Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys story. For the past two years I've been over in the Supernatural fandom but I've never forgotten where I got my start with writing. It really helped my decision to write another ND/HB because of all the new people coming along to read my old work. It really flattered me that people are still reading my stuff when I was sure I was long forgotten.**

**But enough about that. **

**This story takes place with Nancy and Frank being 23 and married while Joe is 22. I'm not sure how deep to really explain it because I don't want to give anything away. If you have read my work before then you know what I do—give you insight into the criminal mind, as well the core characters. Everyone has a story to tell and I try to give it to you from all sides.**

**I will update but it won't be as quick as I'd like it to be. Along with my job, I also have responsibilities with a couple of Supernatural websites, a virtual season I write for and other writing projects I've committed to. **

**I'm really hoping you guys will enjoy this and please tell me what you think, good or bad. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask because I'll be more than happy to answer them as long as I don't give anything away with the story.**

**This chapter is not beta'd so any mistakes are my own. As for a warning—there is language in this story. Let's be realistic after all—it happens every day.**

**Oh, and that pesky little disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I create. **

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Penny Blake wondered why she even put up with it some nights.

The twenty-three year old, titian haired woman should have had a career by now—a great paying one as a matter of fact. Instead, she'd opted to drop out of college and for what? Empty promises from a man who promised her that he would love her and take care of her for the rest of her life?

Amazing how that only lasted for about two months. Yep, Gavin left her behind in a cloud of dust but not before draining her bank account and leaving her life in shambles. Any sensible person would have realized he was a loser from the beginning—lord knows she had many of her friends telling her she should have never gotten involved with him. Apparently, he'd had a reputation around campus and Penny was dumb enough to fall for him.

Now fast forward six months later.

Penny couldn't get back into college—she'd lost every bit of her scholarship with her decision to drop out. The worst part of it was that she only had a year left before she could graduate with her business degree. Now, the young woman was stuck working the late shift as a bartender at Joey's Sports Bar and Grill, a local favorite hangout for anyone who loved sports.

Normally, it wasn't so bad—the gig paid well, not to mention all the tips she earned. But tonight was shaping up to be a different story. The natives were a little more restless than usual, not even the constant flow of alcohol or variety of games on the ten plasma screen televisions throughout the establishment. It amazed her how sports could rile up any guy and winning only seemed to make them act crazier. She was being beckoned from every direction and Penny was doing everything possible to keep from going postal.

_Billy is so going to hear about this for calling in sick at the very last minute._

"Hey, am I gonna get any service down here or what?" One of the patrons slurred, slamming his empty beer bottle down on the counter.

Penny rolled her eyes at the pot-bellied, slightly balding man dressed in a Chicago Cubs jersey as she made her way down to him. "Don't you think you've had enough for tonight?" She had to shout to be heard over the sudden commotion as a run was scored.

Pot-belly smiled drunkenly. "You hear that? The boys are winning! We're celebratin'."

"I think you've done enough celebrating for the entire crowd."

That wasn't a lie. Penny had lost count of the number of beers he'd had tonight. Joey frowned upon his bartenders cutting off his patrons but Penny didn't agree with that. Not that she was too concerned about morons drinking themselves into a stupor—if they wanted to do that to themselves, then so be it. But she wasn't about to allow them to go out and cause harm to an innocent person.

"Are you seriously cutting me off?"

"I seriously am," Penny said. "Now, if it's a club soda or a strong cup of coffee you want, then I'm your girl."

Walking off, the young woman went to help another patron who was signaling her. Before she could take two steps away, Pot-belly walked behind the counter and grabbed her arm, pulling her against him.

"I can think of another way you could sober me up," he replied, smiling suggestively.

"Get off of me," Penny said, pushing against the man, but somehow in his drunken state he managed to retain his grip.

"Come on, baby—why don't you loosen up a bit?"

"I said let go!" Penny brought her knee up, nailing the guy in his genitals. He let go of her instantly, bending over in pain as he tried to catch his breath.

"You stupid bitch!" He roared, reaching out to grab her again. Before he could do it though, she reared back and clocked him in the jaw. He was unconscious before he even hit the ground and the customers sitting at the bar began to cheer, their attention now off of the baseball game.

"Penny, what the hell is going on out here?" Joey demanded, pushing through the crowd to get to her.

"Joey, she totally clocked that old dude!" One of the younger patrons said, laughing with his buddies.

"You what?" Joey asked, turning from the men to look at her.

Penny shrugged. "He violated the rules, Joey. I told you I won't have them coming back here. This is _my _territory."

The owner leaned down next to the man and felt for a pulse. "I doubt he felt a damn thing when you knocked him out." He stood up and nodded at a couple of men around the bar. "We'll let him sleep it off for now. Why don't you take the rest of the night off?"

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You just assaulted a customer—"

"Who grabbed me first."

"—And you're wiped out. Go get some sleep, Penny," Joey said calmly. "I'll still pay you for the rest of your shift."

Penny sighed but grabbed her purse and jacket from under the bar. "Fine."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Penny said as she walked out the door and into the cool April night.

Joey was right—she needed to get away and clear her mind. Right now she wanted nothing more than to get back to her apartment and clean. It was the one thing she could do that she could actually have some amount of control over. Even when she was a kid and she was mad about something, she would clean like there was no tomorrow.

_Mom never complained…it saved her a lot of work in the end._

Pulling her fleece jacket tighter around her body, Penny kept her head down as she walked the desolate Chicago sidewalk. While she normally would have taken a cab the ten blocks to her complex, tonight she figured the walk would help ease some of her anger. It wasn't too cold out—only the wind seemed to make the temperature lower than it actually was.

_So what do you do, Penny? Do you stay here and waste away your life but maintain that independence you craved when you were growing up? Or do you go back home to a smothering mother who won't so much as let you breathe without her knowing?_

"I really don't see where either is giving me too good of an option there," she muttered and then cringed as she realized she was answering the voice in her head.

_Yep, definitely not crazy there, kiddo._

What she really needed was a break from her life—if nothing else than a weekend away from it all. And she really didn't have to have a plan. All she needed to do was hop in her car and just drive all day—where ever she stopped for the night would be her destination.

_I'm sure Joey would let me have a long weekend if I asked. It's not like I've ever requested a day off before and after tonight, I think he'd practically push me out the door._

"That settles it then. I'll call tomorrow and get the ball rolling…"

So lost in her thoughts, Penny didn't pay attention as the outline of a shadow crept up behind her. The wind and usual city night sounds masked any footsteps that may have alerted her to any potential danger.

What the young woman did notice was the hand that thrust out, covering her mouth. Her blue eyes widened in shock and she tried screaming as the figure pulled her into an alleyway, hoping someone would come to her defense. The only thing she could think of was that it was the drunken guy coming to finish what she started in the bar. But that couldn't be—he was still KO'd back at Joey's and would be for a while.

As the stranger's hand rose above her, a nearby streetlamp caught the glint of metal and Penny panicked as she saw that it was a knife. _Oh, God…oh, no no no! Someone please help me!_

Her prayers went unanswered was the blade was thrust down and into her heart. Penny convulsed once before the mysterious assailant dropped her to the ground in a heap. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a single pink rose, dropping it beside the dead girl.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, guys! I want to thank you so much for the warm welcome back! It really meant a lot to me to know that you guys are still wanting stories from me! I thought for sure I would be long forgotten, so thanks for letting a gal still feel welcome!**

**As always, I ask you to let me know what you think!**

**Oh, and if there are any mistakes…they are my own.**

**Now, on with the chapter!**

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**Chapter Two**

_Nancy Drew tried to run but no matter how fast her feet carried her, it still wasn't enough to get away from him. Everywhere she turned, he was standing there waiting for her. And while that was scary enough, it was made even scarier by the fact that she could see nothing but his eyes._

_Cold blue eyes._

_It seemed as if she was running a never-ending maze but there was no exit in sight. She knew she needed to get away from him. She knew if she didn't, she'd be dead. Just like all the others before her._

_Turning a corner, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw he wasn't standing there, waiting for her. It gave her hope that maybe she'd lost him for good this time, that maybe she would finally be able to get away._

_That hope was short-lived as she heard a menacing chuckle behind her._

"_The poor little lamb being left to the slaughter," he said, clucking his tongue. "Did you really think you would be able to get away that easily, Nancy?"_

_Nancy refused to say anything, not sure if it had anything to do with fear or not wanting to give him the pleasure._

"_Oh, we don't have anything to say? No begging or pleading for your pathetic little life? I've gotta say, that kinda takes the fun out of all of this, Nancy." He shrugged as he took a step towards her, a knife suddenly materializing in his hand. "Well, if you're not going to make it fun for me we might as well just bring this to an end now, don't you think?"_

_Nancy swallowed hard as the moonlight reflected off the blade. She knew she would never last in a fight against him—she was running on nothing but fumes now. But she also knew she couldn't just stand here and let him kill her. She had to at least try to get away._

_Turning on her heel, she ran smack into his hard chest as he appeared in front of her, blocking her escape. Grabbing her tightly, he turned her around, pressing her back against his body. Her blue eyes widened in fear as he held the knife in front of her._

"_Time to die, Nancy Drew…" he said as he brought the knife down._

Twenty-three year old Nancy Drew jerked awake, her heart hammering in her chest as she sat bolt upright in bed, sweat drenching her body. She glanced over at Frank Hardy, her husband of only a few short months, hoping she didn't wake him, smiling slightly when she saw he was still sleeping soundly. Glancing at the digital clock on the bedside table as she tried to catch her breath, she saw the LED light read 4:53 AM.

Knowing that there was no way she was going to get back to sleep anytime soon, Nancy slipped the covers off her body and made her way to the bathroom, wanting nothing more than a hot shower in hopes that it would help calm her nerves. Grabbing her robe from the hook on the bedroom door, Nancy tiptoed out into the hallway and slipped inside the bathroom. Turning the faucet, she adjusted the temperature until the water was as hot as she could stand before stepping inside.

She didn't know why the dream was rattling her the way it was. After all, it was only the fifth one or so and they all played out exactly the same as the previous one—except for one difference tonight. Tonight she didn't see the endless display of bodies as she turned the corner. Truth be told, Nancy wasn't sure if that was a blessing or not.

Seeing the bodies were what usually hit her the hardest—the dead women a stark reminder that the police weren't doing everything in their power to bring a brutal killer to a stop.

Finally getting her heart to a somewhat normal beating rhythm and feeling the tense set of her muscles start to unwind, Nancy turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a towel from the hook next to the stall. Quickly drying off, she wrapped herself in her thick terry robe and retrieved a brush from a drawer, running it through her tangled titian hair. Opening the door, she made her way into the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee pot.

As soon as it finished its brew cycle, Nancy grabbed a cup from the cabinet, filling it up to the brim before adding cream and sugar. Picking up her cup, she brought it over to the bar and sat down. She'd barely taken two sips when soft footsteps alerted her that she wasn't alone.

"How long have you been up?" Frank Hardy asked, looking at her in concern.

Nancy shrugged. "Maybe twenty minutes or so."

"Another dream?"

"Yeah."

Frank knew all about her dreams she'd been having but only because he could see right through her lie when she told him it was nothing. Then again, Nancy had always found it hard to lie to Frank—one of the pitfalls from being a detective, she guessed.

Frank filled his own mug with coffee and sat down beside her. "Was it the same as the others?"

"Almost," Nancy admitted as she took another sip of coffee. When he looked at her questioningly, she added, "I didn't see the bodies this time."

"Shouldn't that be a relief?"

"I guess…"

"What is it, Nan?"

Nancy sighed. "I don't know…it's just…I guess it's nothing."

Frank reached over and grabbed her hand. "Nancy?"

"Honestly, Frank…I don't know what it is."

"But you'd tell me if you did know, right?" Frank asked earnestly. "You know I'll help you the best way I can."

Nancy smiled softly. "I know you would," she said as she leaned forward to kiss him. As Frank returned the kiss, she felt that feeling of warmth running its trail up her body just like it always did every time they kissed. It had been that way since day one and it was a feeling Nancy never wanted to go away.

They broke apart just as Nancy's phone began to go off. Rolling her eyes, she knew who it would be before she even answered it. "Barry," she groaned.

"Just let it go to voicemail," Frank urged. "He can learn to wait."

"If I do that, he'll just keep calling until I answer it," Nancy argued. "Or worse yet, he'll call the paper until John starts griping at me."

Barry Campbell was a writer who was currently following Nancy around, wanting to get her life story into book form. Nancy had been totally against the idea from when he first contacted her about four months ago. It made her feel like she would be coming off as superior to everyone else and there were plenty of people out there who had a story to tell.

Thinking she'd gotten rid of Barry, she was annoyed to learn he'd gotten in touch with John Snyder, the editor-in-chief of the _Chicago Tribune_ a month ago. John had insisted it would be a good experience for her, not to mention it would be good publicity for the paper. Not that the _Tribune_ needed any publicity, what with it being one of the biggest papers in the country. But Nancy wasn't about to argue with John—after all, it wasn't exactly easy to get a job as a mainstream reporter and she wasn't about to jeopardize it now. Not when it took her two years to get to the position she was at now.

Jumping up from the bar, Nancy ran to the room before it had the chance to go to voicemail. Picking it up off the dresser, she hit the "talk" button. "This is Nancy Drew."

"_Nancy, did I wake you?"_ John's voice came over the line.

Nancy sighed in relief, glad that it wasn't Barry. "No, I was in the other room, sorry. I didn't have my phone with me."

"_That's quite alright."_

"So, what's up?"

"_I know you're probably tired of me calling since it's usually never for anything good, but I thought you'd want to be the first to know."_

"What is it, John?" Nancy asked, knowing that the editor was right. Of course, with her being one of his top crime reporters, there was rarely a day that she got any good news from him.

"_There was another murder last night."_

Nancy closed her eyes as she let out a long sigh. "Same as the others?"

"_That's what I was told."_

"Where's it at?" she asked, grabbing the notepad and pen she always kept on her bedside table.

"_It's just a couple of blocks away from Joey's. You can't miss it—there's practically a circus down there right now."_

"Okay, I'll get there as soon as I get dressed."

Nancy hung up the phone, throwing it onto the bed. Rubbing her temples, she knew the faint throbbing under the surface was going to turn into a full-blown headache before the day was over. She was so tired of getting these phone calls; for about five weeks now, a killer had been terrorizing the city. This latest victim brought the tally up to seven women who'd been unfortunate enough to cross his path. The citizens were demanding answers and as of yet, the police had been unable to give them any, offering only advice in the form of not venturing out alone at night.

Walking back out into the kitchen, Nancy saw Frank was just getting off of his own phone. "Who were you talking to?"

"That was Joe—he said there's been—"

"—another murder," Nancy finished for him. At Frank's quizzical look, she added, "I just got off the phone with John. Are you about to head over there?"

"Yeah, Joe's already there."

Along with his younger brother, Joe, Frank had opened a private detective office instead of going into the police department. His way of thinking when he'd explained it to Nancy about a year ago was that he and Joe had gotten along this far on their own there was really no reason to ruin a good thing. Besides that, they got to be their own boss and could work cases how they wanted to. Even though Nancy was now a reporter, it still didn't stop her from joining the Hardy brothers on a case every now and then.

Like the murders—Frank and Joe had been hired about two weeks ago by the family of Shayla Miller, the second victim of the killer. Unsatisfied with the Chicago PD, they hoped that the brothers could find the person responsible but so far the brothers were failing to have any luck, though they were making a little more progress than the cops.

"Well, I just have to get dressed, then I'll be heading over there myself," Nancy said, grabbing her coffee cup and washing it out in the sink.

Frank slipped behind her, putting his arms around her waist. "How about we ride over there together? It's only right that we do our part to help the environment by saving gas."

Nancy laughed as she turned around to kiss him. "I didn't know you were so conservative, Mr. Hardy."

"I guess I'm just full of surprises," Frank replied softly, returning the kiss.

"You definitely are that…"

*************

Arriving at the scene, Nancy found that John was right—it was a circus as crime scene techs, police, the coroner's office, and reporters all vied for the same limited space. Curious spectators were prevented from crossing the street by a barricade being manned by a few rookies from the police department. After getting clearance from another one of the officers, Nancy parked her car as close as she could to the crime scene.

"Frank! Nancy!" Joe Hardy shouted before they could barely get out of the car. The couple looked up to see the younger man jogging towards them.

"Hey, Joe," Nancy replied, giving him a hug. "How long have you been out here?"

Joe shrugged. "I guess about forty-five minutes or so. Some of us don't have the luxury of sleeping in to all hours of the day."

Nancy held up her watch to Joe. "It's six-thirty in the morning. You definition of sleeping in is slightly obscured."

Joe grinned but didn't say anything.

"So, what do we have here?" Frank asked as Nancy popped the trunk to grab her messenger bag. The trio began to slowly walk towards the crime scene as Joe filled them in.

"Twenty-three year old girl—Penny Blake. She'd just gotten off her shift at Joey's when she was murdered."

"Do they have a time of death?" Frank asked.

"They put it around midnight."

"Why did it take so long to receive word of her death?"

Joe shrugged. "She was killed in an alleyway. The police only got the call about an hour ago. Apparently, a bum looking for some food found her body. He freaked and ran across the street to that Starbucks." He nodded towards the familiar coffee house chain. "They figured him to be some kind of crazy until one of the workers followed him back over here and saw her. That's when they called it in."

"Is it the same as the others?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah—single stab wound to the heart and the ever-present pink rose."

"What did the girl look like?" Frank queried.

Joe exchanged a look with his sibling before glancing at Nancy uncomfortably.

Nancy already knew what he was going to say. "She looked like me, didn't she?"

"She had the same features, yeah," Joe answered quietly, coming to a stop.

"And you still think this means something?"

"Nancy, it's a little hard to overlook when all of the victims have resembled you," Frank argued.

Nancy sighed. "So, they happen to resemble me—what's the big deal? There are plenty of women in Chicago who have the same hair and eye color as me. It's a big city, after all. Besides, this is all just a coincidence so you two need to stop worrying about it."

Joe smiled ruefully. "That's like telling an addict to step away from drugs, Nan. You know we can't do that."

_Tell me about it_, Nancy thought but didn't dare say it out loud. "Can you at least keep it to a minimum then? I can't have you guys freaking out because it makes it hard for me to do my job when I have two shadows constantly tailing me. You know that I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, we know you can," Frank admitted. "But you also have this annoying habit of going about things by yourself and not asking for help before it's too late."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "What is this, an intervention?"

"Would it work?" Frank asked hopefully.

"Keep dreaming, Frank," Joe said nudging Nancy with his arm. "You know nothing's gonna get through Drew's hard head."

Nancy pushed the younger Hardy away. "Oh, and this comes from the king of stubbornness." She began walking again. "We've got work to do whenever the two of you decide you're finished."

*************

He watched in amusement from behind the barricade across the street as the police bumbled around like the idiots they usually were. They had no idea what to do much less finding their own ass, even if step-by-step instructions were included. It was the same at every scene—the head scratching, the unchanging look of puzzlement on their faces, the mumbles as they each came up with another lamebrain idea.

But the terror he was inflicting on such a large city was almost enough to make up for it. To know that no one truly felt safe was a feeling that never grew old for him. It was such a power trip and one he didn't want to come down from.

He smiled as the main attraction of his little show finally made her appearance. It was the main reason he risked staying behind, blending into the crowd wanting to come off as another concerned citizen.

Nancy Drew.

He felt a thrill go through his body at the sight of the early morning sun reflecting off her reddish-blonde hair. And as her inquisitive eyes roamed the curious onlookers, he knew who she was really seeking out—she was looking for _him_.

_No need to seek, Nancy. We'll be meeting up soon enough…_

"So, how did I do?" A feminine voice asked, as she sidled up next to him. He looked down to see the brunette gazing up at him, love and longing in her big brown eyes.

Dominic Shepard smiled down at her approvingly. "You did well, my love. You did very well indeed."

*************

**Oh, did I mention that Dom would be back?**

**Hmm…don't know how that slipped my mind…*evil laugh***

**And yeah, it will be explained how he's still alive and kicking considering I supposedly killed him in Landmine. Look for it in an upcoming chapter!**

**Not sure when the next update will be and I won't make a promise about it since I can't stand that and know I probably won't hold true to it because of real life.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, I know it's been a long time since I've updated this and I appreciate the fact that ya'll have continued to drop by and leave comments. I've had a couple of things re-inspire me to continue with this story, but the main one has been the encouraging comments and the sudden influx of new readers who have come along and checked out my other stories. I want to thank you guys from the bottom of my heart for your continued support.**

**That being said, I won't promise when the next update will be but I'm truly hoping that there won't be such a long lull between this chapter and the next one. **

**Please let me know what you guys think and thanks again for reading!**

**Oh, and all mistakes are my own and I apologize in advance.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter Three**

Frank Hardy sighed as he looked down at the body of the young woman on the dirty side street. If it wasn't for the ugly gaping hole in her chest and her extremely pale features, she would have looked like she was sleeping. But Frank knew this was something Penny Blake would never wake up from.

Instead, she would be another tally for some psycho killer who was getting his kicks by holding Chicago hostage in terror. To her family and friends, she would be remembered as a best friend, a sister, a daughter and a granddaughter—another innocent girl who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He couldn't help but wonder what she was doing out here all alone in the middle of the night. Her uniform made it apparent that she was either just getting off of work or on her way to her shift when she was attacked. Even after all the warnings about walking alone at night, she still took the risk and ended up paying for it with her life. It just wasn't fair and the young detective wanted it to stop.

"Excuse me—we need to get through so we can get the body loaded up."

Frank glanced up at the coroner and his attendant, nodding in apology as he stepped out of the way. He had to force himself not to flinch when the coroner referred to Penny as "the body." It just wasn't fair—she deserved better than being called a body.

All of the victims deserved better.

As she was zipped up into the body bag, Frank couldn't help but be reminded by how much she resembled Nancy, even more so than the others. From the hair color to the body type, nearly every inch of her reminded him of his bride. Glancing up, he watched as she interviewed one of the officers and for a second a cold fear ran up and down his body.

He wanted to believe it was a coincidence that all of the murdered women looked like Nancy, but in his mind, he knew that wasn't true. There was some kind of connection there and he wanted to know what it was. Nancy was in complete denial, but Frank couldn't help but be worried. It would be better if the killer would just let them know what his endgame was but so far, there hadn't been any communication from him unless you counted the rose he left at every murder scene.

And unless Frank Hardy was missing something, the roses weren't telling them jack squat.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Frank started, never realizing that Joe had joined him. "I'm good."

"It's not her, Frank."

"Not this time." Frank replied softly as the coroner and his assistant loaded Penny onto the gurney and strapped her down.

"You can't do that. You're going to drive yourself crazy if you keep picturing them as Nancy."

"It's kind of hard not to when every one of them look almost exactly like her," Frank argued, running a hand through his hair. "You know this isn't a coincidence, Joe."

"Please, Frank…I don't even believe in the word," Joe agreed. "That's like saying the Easter Bunny is real or something crazy like that."

Frank glanced at his sibling, a puzzled frown on his face. "Wait, you're telling me the Easter Bunny's not real?"

Joe snorted. "Cute, Frank…real cute."

The older Hardy brother smiled in spite of everything.

"Now, do you want to keep making terrible jokes or should I tell you what I found out?"

"Sure, but let's get away from here. It's getting kind of crowded," Frank said, as a couple of crime scene techs squeezed their way into the narrow alleyway.

Exiting onto the main street, the brothers silently walked towards Joe's silver Ford Ranger parked across the street. From this vantage point, it allowed them to keep their eyes on everything going on and in Frank's case, he was able to watch Nancy without being too obvious about it.

"So, enlighten me, little brother. Did you come up with anything we didn't already know?"

Joe sighed. "Not much—you already know the physical similarities match once again. She came from single household family—her dad died when she was thirteen and her mom never remarried. She's originally from southern Illinois and moved up here when she was eighteen in order to go to college. She was on a full scholarship until she met a guy and he convinced her to drop out a year or so ago. After a few months, he dumped her and cleaned her out. She had to get a job at Joey's Sports Bar and Grill since the university wouldn't allow her to continue with her scholarship."

"You found out all of that from the cops?"

Joe nodded, seemingly impressed with himself.

Frank cocked his head, an eyebrow arched in disbelief.

"Okay, not exactly," Joe relented before continuing on with a sheepish smile. "Her best friend filled in the blanks for me."

"Let me guess—you flirted with her?"

Joe shrugged. "It's a gift that so few possess."

Frank snorted. "It's a gift that's going to get you in trouble with a certain someone."

"Who? Vanessa?"

Frank remained silent.

"She knows not to take me seriously."

"I always knew she was a smart girl."

"Bite me," Joe retorted as he shoved his brother.

Frank's laughter was only interrupted by Nancy's sudden reappearance.

"What did you do now?" Nancy asked, the question aimed at the younger Hardy.

"Why do you always assume I'm the one behind everything?"

"Because history pretty much points at you being the one behind everything."

"You know what they say about assuming, Nancy."

"I swear you two should have been siblings," Frank said, but he was grinning despite himself. They could use a little humor right now, considering how morbid things had been as of late and if it had to come in the form of Nancy and Joe's constant flow of banter, then Frank would gladly take it.

"That would make your marriage a little awkward, don't you think?" Joe asked, frowning.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if Nancy and I were siblings…" Joe's voice trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence in the air.

Nancy slapped Joe on the arm. "That's just gross."

"Frank was the one who said it," Joe argued, rubbing his arm.

"So, what are you two going to do now?" Nancy asked, focusing her attention on Frank.

"I think Joe and I might head on over to the bar and grill where Penny worked, see if we can find out anything."

Nancy nodded thoughtfully.

"What about you?" Frank asked, reaching for one of her hands.

The young woman was about to answer when a male voice called out her name. She groaned as she looked at Frank helplessly. "I guess I just found out my answer."

Frank glanced over her shoulder to see Barry Campbell waving his arm at her. "He certainly knows how to call attention to himself."

"Is it too late to hide?"

"Have you checked to see if he has a tracker planted on you?" Joe asked. "It's amazing how he's always able to find you, no matter what time of the day it is."

"I actually wouldn't put that past him," Nancy said.

"Joe was making a joke, Nan."

"Still…" She let out an aggrieved sigh as Barry once again called her name. "I better go before be gets a hold of a police bullhorn."

Frank reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys to the car, placing them in her hand he still held onto. "I'll catch a ride with Joe."

"You sure?"

Frank nodded. "Pick me up from the office when you get finished?"

Nancy leaned forward and kissed him. "I'll be there."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Nancy refused to acknowledge Barry until the brothers had gotten into Joe's truck and drove away. Truth be told, she was tired of dealing with the overeager writer and wanted nothing more than to tell him to hit the road. In fact, she was ready to include her editor in that farewell for even making her put up with Barry.

Giving herself another few seconds to take a deep breath, Nancy mentally shook herself before turning around and heading towards Barry. "What have I told you about seeking me out on assignments?"

Barry shrugged helplessly as he followed Nancy to her car. "Mr. Snyder told me where I could find you. He thinks I should get some fresh material for the book and not rely on just cases you've tackled in the past."

Nancy stopped walking, turning to face the man, working to control her features. She wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off Barry Campbell's handsome face. From the glances coming their way from some of the women standing around, Nancy was sure they would love to be in her position. In fact, she was pretty close to begging someone to take her place, especially if it meant that it got Barry off of her back. He may be able to charm some of the women she worked with at the office, but it wasn't going to work on Nancy Drew.

Not even a little.

"I think John and I need to have a talk about where your boundaries lie," Nancy replied. "I don't mind answering your stupid questions when I'm not working, but when I'm on a story, I won't allow you to distract me."

Barry smiled, showing off his perfectly dazzling white teeth. "So, you're saying that I distract you from your job."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Hey, you're the one who said it."

Nancy counted to five in her head before she spoke. "Look, you might be able to mesmerize some women, but it's not working on me." She held out her left hand, the wedding ring Frank gave her shimmering as it caught the rays of the sun, for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I'm married—happily married."

"So you keep telling me." The smile only became wider on the writer's face.

_Whatever you do, Nancy, do not do anything to him that could get you arrested. Not when too many witnesses and the police are standing around…_

Instead of acting on her thought, Nancy continued on her way towards her car. It wasn't two seconds later before she heard the sound of Barry's footsteps as he followed her. "Let me guess—you took a cab here."

"I figured if we're in a car together you would have no choice but to talk to me."

Nancy unlocked her car door, throwing her messenger bag into the back seat. "Haven't I given you enough material to work with? You've only been following me around for the last two weeks."

"Hey, you've got one hell of a story to tell. I want to make sure that I have everything right." Barry shrugged.

"And if I refuse to allow you to ride along with me?"

"Well, I would hate to misquote you or something," Barry replied, offhandedly. "Imagine how embarrassing that would be for you or the paper."

Nancy thought about that for a couple of seconds before saying, "I think I can live with that."

"Sure, you may be able to but what happens when I call Mr. Snyder and inform him that you refuse to cooperate with me?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a grown woman who is capable of making her own decisions."

"I have noticed that," Barry said, nodding. "But I've also noticed that you're a woman who is in love with her career and would do anything to stay in the position she's in. I know how hard it was for you to earn your front page status; it would be a shame for something as trivial as you refusing to talk to me to lose your title."

"What will it take to get you off my back once and for all?" Nancy asked with a defeated sigh while in her mind, she was thinking how lucky Barry was that there was a car between the two of them. If it hadn't been there, Nancy was pretty sure she would have throttled him, even if it went against her nature. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was to be blackmailed or tricked into something.

"Just let me stick around with you while you work this case and I'll be out of your hair as soon as it wraps up."

"Fine, but I don't have to…" Nancy's voice trailed off as a sudden shiver ran down her spine. Looking around her, she couldn't help but feel as if she was being watched. Allowing her eyes to roam the crowd, she did a double-take as a familiar face caught her attention.

_It couldn't be…_

"Hey, are you okay?"

Nancy ignored Barry's question as she slowly stepped away from the car to get a closer look at the crowd. She could have sworn she'd seen him standing there, but that was entirely impossible, considering he was dead. He had been for the last few years.

_Maybe I'm just letting my nerves get to me…_

"Nancy?"

The young reporter nearly jumped out of her skin as Barry rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Sorry—I didn't mean to scare you," he apologized and if Nancy wasn't mistaken, he actually meant it.

"No, it's okay," Nancy said, smiling shakily.

"Are you okay? You sure are pale."

"Yeah…yeah, I'm okay," Nancy reassured him, swallowing down the lump in her throat. "I just thought I saw someone I knew, that's all."

"If you're sure…"

"Yeah, let's just get back to the office, okay?"

"Sure."

Nancy trailed behind Barry as they walked back to her car, turning to look at the crowd once more. She didn't want to believe what she saw was real. She was all for blaming it on her imagination, but it still wasn't enough to chase away the gnawing fear in the pit of her stomach.


	4. Chapter 4

**I want to thank those that read the last chapter, especially TesubCalle, Prismatic Iris and Destiny J. Adams for their lovely comments. I am so glad that you guys like the last chapter and you're excited that I'm back with this story! I have to admit, I was really missing it…lol**

**Well, I'm not going to waste time on explanations. I figure I would just let you guys get to reading. I'm hoping to get the next chapter out soon and that this is a continued trend for me now that I have the motivation for it. And they say TV does nothing for us…**

**Oh, and I do jump POVs at one point during this chapter. When you get to it, I hope you understand why I had to do that.**

**All mistakes are my own and I apologize in advance for them.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter Four**

"You know, I really feel sorry for Nancy," Joe commented as both he and Frank got out of his truck and walked up the sidewalk entrance to Joey's Sports Bar and Grill. Even though it was a couple hours until lunchtime, there were a few cars dotting the parking lot.

"You better not let her hear you say that," Frank warned with a grin. "Why do you say that?"

Joe knew Frank was right—Nancy Drew did not do well with people feeling sorry for her. She was probably one of the strongest women he knew and to have someone feel sorry for her would only make her feel weak—which she wasn't. Not by a long shot. "Having to deal with a jerk like Barry Campbell—a constant shadow everywhere she goes. I mean, has she gone a day without him around?"

Frank shook his head, not trying to mask his frustration about the situation. "No—if he's not meeting with her face-to-face, then he's calling her on her cell phone at all hours of the day." Frank opened the door to the eating establishment, allowing Joe to go in before him. "It's gotten so bad that she's had to turn her phone off during the night."

"Wow…that is pretty bad."

"Tell me about it. I would love nothing more than to give Campbell a piece of my mind but I don't want to do anything to jeopardize Nancy's career."

"Are those violent tendencies I'm hearing?" Joe teased.

"Let's just say that Barry Campbell brings out the worst in anybody," Frank relented. "I guarantee if you brought him to a priest, he'd have the guy thinking about murder in five seconds flat."

Joe couldn't help but laugh. Frank was usually the Hardy brother to keep a level-head, but if he was making comments like that about the writer, then Joe knew Barry Campbell had to be pretty bad. Before Joe could say anything else, a waitress, dressed in a green T-shirt with _Joey's _printed on the left side, blue jeans with her brown hair pulled up into a ponytail, approached the brothers, menus in hand.

"It's a little early for lunch, fellas, but I'm pretty sure we can whip you up something if you want," she said, a cheerful smile planted on her face. "Oh, and my name is Alice."

Joe opened his mouth to say something, but Frank cut in before he could get the words out. "Actually, we'd like to talk to anyone who was working last night—with Penny Blake."

The color drained from Alice's face and her lower lip began to tremble.

Joe stepped forward and led the petite waitress to a nearby table. Pulling out a chair, he eased her into it before crouching down so he could look up at her. He ignored Frank's sigh and focused on the girl. Frank may be the brains of the outfit, but Joe could charm and console at the drop of a hat.

"Did you know Penny, Alice?" he asked softly.

Alice sniffled and nodded. "It's not like we were best friends, you know…but I liked talking to her. She would always listen to me go on and on about my problems and she never complained. Not once."

"Did you work with her last night?" Frank gently probed.

"No." Alice took the napkin Joe handed to her and blew her nose before she continued. "It was my day off yesterday."

"Is there anyone here that happened to work with Penny?" Joe queried.

"Joey's in his office. I don't think he even went home. I can go check if you want."

"That would be great."

"Okay," Alice said, nodding. "I'll be right back."

The Hardys took a seat at the bar and a couple of minutes later, Alice reemerged from the back, a middle-aged man with thick, curly brown hair and a muscular build right behind her.

"Alice said the two of you wanted to talk me," he said, facing the two detectives from the other side of the bar.

"Are you Joey?" Frank asked.

"Depends who's asking." The man crossed his arms over his chest and fixed the two young men with a stern look.

"My name is Frank Hardy." Frank nodded at Joe. "And this is my brother, Joe—"

"You two are those private detectives, aren't you?"

"I see you've heard of us," Joe said, impressed.

"I keep up with the news. They said you were launching your own investigation into the murders." He held out a hand to the brothers. "Joey Vitale. Hey Alice, get those two a beer, will ya?"

"That's really not necessary," Frank protested.

Joey shook his head. "I insist." Alice grabbed a couple of beers from the cooler and popped the tops. Placing a coaster in front of each Hardy, she plopped the amber bottles down with a smile. Seeing the door open, she excused herself to meet up with the new arrivals.

"So, what did you two want to talk about?"

"You worked with Penny last night?" Joe asked, taking a sip of the alcoholic brew. Normally, he and Frank weren't ones to drink on the job but it would have been rude not to show their appreciation for Joey's hospitality.

"Yeah—she wasn't even supposed to be on last night but my other bartender called in sick so she agreed to fill in."

"Was that something she normally did?"

A small smile tugged at the owner's lips. "She was always one to go out of her way if someone needed something. I could always count on her if I got in a pinch."

Joe got the distinct impression that Joey was harboring a crush on the dead girl. _Too bad he never got the chance to act on it._

"Did she know that you liked her?" Frank asked, causing Joe to give him a weird look.

_Since when did my brother turn into a psychic?_

Joey looked startled but there was no mistaking the slight blush that crept along his cheeks. "Nah—I never told her. I was afraid it would make our working relationship weird, ya know? I couldn't risk running her off, not when she was the best thing that ever happened to this place."

"Did anything strange happen last night?"

"The Cubs were playing last night, so we had our usual rowdy crowd," Joey explained. He took a couple of seconds to think back on the night before. "There was one guy…"

"Acting strange?" Joe asked, perking up.

"He was drunk. He walked behind the bar here and grabbed Penny, but she let him know she didn't tolerate that."

"What do you mean?"

"She clocked him good. Knocked him out cold," Joey said, chuckling at the memory. "The guys here were pretty impressed with her." He let out a tired sigh. "After that, I sent her home. Told her she needed to pack it in for the night."

"Did anyone follow her out?" Frank asked.

"Nah—the game was still going on."

"What about the guy she punched?"

"He was out for at least an hour. A couple of guys still hanging around got him home."

"So there's no way he could have attacked her?"

Joey shook his head, his eyes taking on a faraway look as he seemed lost in his thoughts. "I shouldn't have let her leave alone. I mean, I've been checking out the news—I knew this psycho was still out there."

"You can't blame yourself, Joey," Frank said quietly. "It's not like you knew she would be attacked."

"Yeah, I keep telling myself that," Joey said with a sad smile. "Still doesn't do anything to take away the guilt, you know?"

Joe took another drink from the beer. "We really appreciate you talking to us, Joey."

"I only wish I could have given you guys more to work with." He fixed the brothers with an intense look. "You're gonna get this guy, right? Before anyone else has to die? I mean, I know the cops are out there but they've had five weeks and haven't come up with a damn thing."

"We're going to do our best," Joe assured the man.

"That's all any of us can ask, I guess."

Frank and Joe got up from the bar but before they could get a few steps away, Joey was talking to them again. "You two married or in a relationship?"

Frank nodded. "I'm married."

"Keep an eye on your girl, Frank. Don't let her out of your sight. Whatever you do, make sure she's safe, you hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear you."

"Good," Joey said, nodding. "Because you mess up one time, you won't get another chance. Not if this freak has anything to say about it."

Joe exchanged a look with his brother, knowing that Frank was going to do everything in his power to make sure Nancy stayed safe. As they walked out the door and towards Joe's pickup, he couldn't help but be glad that Vanessa was visiting her family out of town.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You want me to fix you something to eat?" Sophie Donovan asked as she unlocked the door to her apartment. Pushing it open, she threw the keys on the counter and turned around to face Dominic Shepard.

Dom smiled at the brunette. "No, I'm good."

Sophie edged up closer to him, sliding her arms around his waist. "Are you sure? I know what an appetite you get after each one."

Dom bent down to nuzzle her neck. "Right now, I only have an appetite for you…"

The young woman laughed as he worked his way along her jawbone, before finally kissing her hungrily on the lips. "Slow down there, cowboy," she said pushing him back a little. "Let me jump in the shower and then we can pick this back up."

Dom groaned but let Sophie go. A smile remained on his face as his watched her saunter off towards the bathroom. Hearing the door click shut, he walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. Popping off the top, he tossed it at the trash can, pleased with himself when it went in effortlessly. Taking a swig of the amber liquid, he walked into the living room and plopped himself down on the recliner.

He honestly didn't know what he would do without Sophie. She'd been a blessing in his life ever since that day he'd come into the emergency room…

"_What have we got?" Doctor Sophie Donovan asked as the gurney crashed through the double doors to the emergency room entrance._

_The paramedics stepped out of the way to allow the hospital staff to do their work. "Two GSWs to the chest—patient has lost a lot of blood. He was responsive when we arrived at the scene but crashed while we were en route."_

"_We'll take it from here. Let's get him into Trauma One, folks." Sophie followed her team into the room, barking out orders as she did so. _

"_Sir, are you able to say anything?" Sophie asked as she watched the man begin to come out of unconsciousness, startled by his icy blue eyes. "What's your name?"_

"_D-Dom," the man croaked before losing consciousness again._

"_You mean you don't recognize him?" asked one of the interns, a young red-headed, freckle-faced woman. "He's been on every news station for the last week or so."_

_Sophie peered more closely at him, though he was nothing but a pale corpse-like figure, realizing that she did know him. It was the killer that had been terrorizing River Heights—Dominic Shepard. She felt a thrill go through her and prayed that no one else noticed. They would run her right out of town if they knew that she was attracted to the treacherous murderer. _

_I always did like my men a little dangerous…_

"_He's coding!"_

_Sophie snapped out of her reverie and got to the problem at hand. "Push Epi and get a crash cart in here, stat!"_

_The room was a flurry of activity as they worked to save the killer's life. Sophie knew every person in the room would be happy if Dominic died right then. And a little part of her would agree with them if she wasn't turned on by him. Well, if they didn't want to save him, then she would do everything in her power to do it herself. _

"_Charging to 200…clear!" Sophie pressed the paddles against Dom's bare chest, sending an electrical charge coursing through his body._

"_Still nothing," the freckle-faced intern declared. _

"_Charge to 250! Clear!" The young doctor repeated her previous actions._

"_I still don't have a pulse!"_

"_How long has he been down?" Sophie demanded._

"_One minute."_

"_Keep working, people!"_

"_Doctor Donovan?" asked a timid voice from the doorway._

_Sophie turned her head, brushing back the hair from her face with her arm. "What is it, Kelly?"_

"_We have a group coming in involved in a major car accident. We could really use your help…"_

"_I'm with a patient," Sophie snapped as she continued to send jolts of electricity through Dom's prone body._

"_Doctor Donovan, we can take care of it from her," the intern said, reaching for the paddles. _

"_No!" Sophie barked. Then she took a deep, calming breath. "I'll take care of him. Jennifer—you and the others see what you can make of the patients coming in."_

"_But one of us should stay in here with you…" one of the nurses began._

"_I can take care of him myself," Sophie said. "Just go help Jennifer."_

_Left alone with Dom, the doctor increased the charge before shocking the killer again. This time, she was rewarded with a pulse, though it was weak. Smiling, she put down the defibrillator and focused her attention on her patient. _

"_Mr. Shepard, can you hear me?"_

_Dominic's eyes fluttered open, revealing the startling blue. Sophie's heart couldn't help but flutter as those eyes focused on her. _

"_I'm going to take good care of you. Do you hear me?"_

_Dom nodded as his lips tried to form words. _

"_Shh…don't talk. You need to save your energy," Sophie said softly. "You know, there are a lot of people who would love to know you're dead."_

_Dom tried to chuckle, but it came out more as a chocking sound._

"_But not me."_

"_What…have…in mind?" The cold blooded killer managed to wheeze out._

_Sophie smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Let's give the people what they want."_

Yep, it was safe to say Dominic Shepard owed his life to the young, starry-eyed doctor. She'd made sure his "death" had looked official before whisking him away and putting him on the mend. Sophie stayed by his side the entire time, never once thinking about leaving him.

Dom wasn't sure if that was out of fear for out of the devotion she had for him. He had to admit, he was flattered by all her attention. He'd never had that growing up as a kid—there wasn't one person who would look at him the way Sophie looked at him. There was longing in her eyes and something else that had always been missing from his life.

Love.

Sophie Donovan actually loved him. Nothing he'd done seemed to bother her. In fact, when he asked her about it, she'd said it only made him that much more attractive.

Dom just wished he could return the feeling. She deserved that much, at least. But as long as Nancy Drew was still out there, there would be no one else who could capture his heart or his attention. Not the way the leggy, reddish-blonde could…

Reaching into the back of his jeans, Dom retrieved his wallet, pulling out the wrinkled picture tucked inside. As he tenderly stroked Nancy's picture, he could feel it in his heart, even after these past few years. He and Nancy were supposed to be together. Every time he held onto Sophie, it was Nancy he was imagining in his mind. And just seeing her at all the murders made it that much more obvious.

He knew the young detective/reporter noticed him today. He watched as she sensed him keeping an eye on her. It took everything he had not to run out of the crowd and take her then. But he knew it all had to be in due time. He had to have patience when it came to Nancy.

The reward was always much sweeter to those who waited. When it came to Nancy, Dom was willing to wait as long as it took.

Kissing the picture, Dom smiled. "Soon, my love. Soon, we'll be together once and for all."


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the slight delay guys, but I was asked to create a Supernatural video for one of my friends who was feeling really down and I needed to get that finished. I'm going to try my best to give you one update a week, especially before I start school again in August. (I'm working on getting my teaching degree while working full-time as well…yikes!)**

**I want to thank SarahE7191, amethyst noir, Destiny J. Adams, PrincessSkywalkerOrgana and dares to dream for their wonderful comments, as well as everyone else who is stopping by and reading my story—it really means a lot to me, guys! Also I want to thank everyone who is adding me to their alerts; it warms my heart to know ya'll are enjoying this so much.**

**Please let me know what you think about this chapter and I will try my best to have a new chapter sometime next week. If I don't get it out before I go out of town for a few days next Saturday, then I will get it as soon as I can when I get back.**

**Oh, and all mistakes are my own so I apologize in advance.**

**Well, enough of my talking…on with the story!**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter Five**

The rest of the day passed by in a blur for Nancy.

She'd gone back to the _Tribune_ offices after leaving the Penny Blake crime scene and immediately set to work on her article for tomorrow's edition, but it was difficult to get it just how she wanted and to pass her editor's inspection. Usually, she could whip out an article, no matter how challenging within an hour but it was hard for Nancy to focus her attention on it. Every time she'd have an idea of how she wanted something phrased, her mind would wander back to the crowd of people near the alley. Even Barry and his incessant questions couldn't take her mind away from it.

Nancy knew she was being watched—her time as a teenage detective taught her how to be aware of her surroundings. She always got that telltale shiver down her spine when she felt someone's eyes on her. She knew the killer was keeping an eye on her, thus pretty much proving her worrisome husband and brother-in-law correct.

And she didn't like either.

But what worried Nancy the most was the fact that she truly thought she was losing her mind. There was no way in the world she saw Dominic Shepard in the crowd of spectators. He was dead—five years running as a matter of fact. Unless she's all of a sudden stepped into an episode of _Supernatural _or _Ghost Hunters_, the psycho killer was still dead.

So if logic kept spelling that out for her, then why in the world couldn't she shake the image of him standing there, leering knowingly at her?

Then it hit her—that's who she'd been dreaming of these past few nights. There was no mistaking the blue eyes she'd envisioned last night—she'd never seen colder eyes on anyone else. Her subconscious must have been telling her something—or maybe she was all of a sudden psychic. Just to put that theory to the test, she'd tried predicting what color suspenders Eddie Flint, one of the top sports writers at the _Tribune_, would wear over his crisp white business shirt. She'd gone with black but he'd surprised her by wearing the loudest shade of green he could find.

_So much for me being psychic…_

Pushing through her story, Nancy finally turned it in right before deadline and called it a day, grateful to be rid of Barry and the newspaper for the night, at least. All she wanted to do was pick up Frank and maybe grab a bite to eat.

Anything but think of Dom.

Pulling up to the little red-brick building that housed Hardy Detective Agency, Nancy got out of the car and headed inside. She once again had to marvel at the interior design of the business—she wasn't exactly an expert at decorating, but she'd managed to make the place look presentable. She knew if she'd left it up to the brothers, the walls would have remained plain and bare, with a two small desks, a dented filing cabinet and metal folding chairs, like the ones they use for assemblies.

Instead, Nancy had devoted the weekend before they opened to making the office look professional and presentable. She'd painted the walls in the waiting area a warm turquoise, adding a small modern brown sofa and cushioned chairs, with a coffee table in the middle. A receptionist's desk sat in one corner, next to the door leading to the brothers' main office, which was decorated in neutral colors, with modern furnishings. As of right now, the desk sat empty, Jane—a cute, petite woman just approaching her sixties—having left for the night.

Nancy always loved stopping in and chatting with Jane. She was like a grandmother to Frank and Joe, the way she stayed on top of them, making sure they stopped long enough to at least get something to eat, which she usually provided. Nancy was thankful that they had that—she knew how determined they could get once they were involved in a case; pretty much the same way she was when she worked on a story for the paper. Sometimes, she was surprised they didn't have to leave little notes, reminding them to breathe.

Opening the door, she peeked her head in and smiled at the sight of the Hardys. They were both standing at Frank's desk looking at something on his computer monitor.

"You two are so cute when you're working."

They both looked up at her startled by her sudden appearance. Nancy tried to stifle the giggle but it was useless. It wasn't very often the Hardys were surprised by anything.

"Who would have thought I could have scared the two of you?"

"You didn't scare us," Joe said, a hint of indignation in his voice. "You just…you caught us…we were working," he finished lamely.

Nancy could only smile at the younger Hardy.

Frank glanced at his watch. "It's five o'clock already?"

Nancy shrugged. "What can I say? Time flies when you're having a great time."

"If I'm not mistaken, that sounded like sarcasm to me," Joe said, grinning.

Nancy let out a tired sigh as she sat down on the futon to the right of the door. "You try working with Barry hanging over your shoulder all day long. And on top of that, I have John griping at me for my story, which isn't any different from any of the other articles I've done on the murders. Only difference is that the name changes."

"Okay, so bad day," Joe summed up for her.

"Wow, Joe—you really amaze me with your detecting skills. To think, I provided you with all your clues and you were able to figure it out," Nancy muttered crossing her arms over her chest.

Before Joe could say anything, Frank stepped forward and took a seat next to her. Taking her hands, he gave them a gentle squeeze. "Okay, spill."

"Spill what?"

"Come on, Nan—you're usually never that mean to Joe unless he really gets under your skin," Frank explained. "So, obviously something else happened today that's bothering you."

Nancy debated whether she should tell the brothers who she thought she saw today. If she told them, there could be two possible outcomes—One, they would think she was crazy and say the stress of work was getting to her; or two, they would believe her and would smother her with their protectiveness until she was ready to scream. Either way, it didn't look good to her.

_Besides, you're not entirely sure what you saw was real. You were ready to call yourself crazy so why add fuel to the fire?_

"I think it's just the stress of work and Barry practically being with me 24/7. It's all just making me feel a little claustrophobic, I guess," Nancy said, hoping Frank would believe her. When Frank nodded, Nancy let out a barely audible sigh. Then she turned her attention to Joe. "Sorry for snapping at you, Joe."

Joe waved it off.

"Let me make it up to you?" Nancy asked.

"What did you have in mind?" Joe queried.

"How about I take you out for a bite to eat and you guys fill me in on what you found out today?"

"So, you really just want to take us out to pump us for information?"

Nancy blinked up at him, an innocent expression on her face. "Hey, if while we're eating the two of you decide to get a little chatty about the case, I'm not going to stop you. That would be rude."

Joe rubbed his belly. "My chattiness depends on what you plan on feeding us."

Frank helped Nancy up from the futon and grinned at her. "You should know by now, Nan—Joe's stomach always controls his mouth and his brain."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fifteen minutes later, the three were seated in a corner booth at Rosalita's, a favorite Mexican restaurant a few blocks from the detective agency. After ordering their beverages, they took a few minute to browse through the menu, even though Nancy knew they were going to get the same thing they always did. They always said they would get something different each time the waitress handed them a menu, but it ended up the same every time.

Nancy settled on the chicken taco salad with all the fixings and a side of guacamole. Frank got the enchilada plate with rice and beans while Joe ordered the steak fajitas. While they waited for their meals to arrive, the group munched on chips, salsa and queso.

While she nibbled at a chip, Nancy tried to control her shaking leg but it was proving impossible. She wanted to wait until they were eating their main meal before launching into questions but her patience was reaching its limit. In fact, she was pretty proud of herself for not grilling Frank while they drove to the eatery, even though her head was screaming at her to do it.

_There's no way I can hold off until they bring us our meals_, Nancy thought. "So, what did you guys find out?" she blurted out quickly before gulping down some tea.

Joe cracked a smile and glanced at his brother. "You mean she didn't break down in the car?"

The edge of Frank's lip twitched, a smile threatening to form. "Nope—though I could see it was taking a lot of effort on her part."

"I'm surprised," Joe commented.

"Why do the two of you always do that?" Nancy demanded.

"Do what?" Frank feigned innocence.

"You always talk about me like I'm not sitting in front of you."

"We do that?" Joe asked, glancing at Frank quizzically.

"Joe, would you rather eat that cheese dip you're digging into or wear it?" Nancy fixed him with a level glance.

"I think I could pull it off—what do you think, Frank?"

"No comment." Frank held up his hands in surrender.

Nancy sighed. _I swear, it's like dealing with a couple of first-graders._

Joe laughed. "You know we only do it out of love, Nan."

"Whatever." She reached into the basket and pulled out another chip. Dipping it into the salsa, she popped it into her mouth, savoring the spicy flavors.

"We didn't really learn anything new," Frank said. "It's like you were saying earlier—we're hearing the same stories over and over again, the only difference being a name."

"The owner of the bar where Penny worked said she got into a situation right before she got off her shift," Joe added.

Nancy's interest was piqued. "What kind of situation?"

"It's not anything to get excited about," Frank cautioned. "Joey said a drunken customer stepped into Penny's space and she didn't take it very well. She clocked him and knocked him out cold."

"Yeah, he was still unconscious when Joey sent her home for the night so we know for sure this guy had nothing to do with Penny's murder," Joe agreed.

The trio stopped talking as the waitress delivered their orders. After cautioning them about the hot plates and making sure they didn't need anything else, she left them to enjoy their meals.

Nancy stabbed at her lettuce in her taco bowl. "So, we're back at square one," she muttered dejectedly. "Why do I feel like we're nothing more than dogs chasing our own tails? I mean, the killer is probably getting off on the fact that we have no idea who he is or what he's going to do next."

"Hey, what's with the defeatist attitude?" Frank asked.

"Yeah, you're supposed to be the optimist in our little gang," Joe said.

Nancy shrugged. "Maybe I'm just running low. It's hard to have hope when this has been going on for a few weeks and we have nothing viable to go on."

"One time this guy is going to slip up and when he does, we'll nail him," Frank replied, his voice exuding the utmost confidence.

"Yeah…"

"Hey, are you sure you're okay?" Joe asked. Before Nancy could assure him she was fine, he pointed his fork at her. "Don't give me this line that you're fine. Obviously something is bothering you."

Frank nodded as he wiped at his mouth with a paper napkin. "Joe's right."

"Can't a girl be in a mood every now and then? Does something always have to be wrong?" Nancy asked, taking a bite of chicken.

"This isn't just some mood; something is on your mind and I think it's something you don't want us to know."

Joe quirked a brow. "Did Barry do something? Do you need me or Frank to go kick his ass for you?"

Nancy would have laughed at that if Joe wasn't so serious about it. "Believe me, I could kick Barry's ass all on my own if I needed to. But thank you for the offer."

"So it's not him?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

Nancy sighed and put down her fork. She might as well get it out into the open—if they thought she was crazy…well, she'd deal with that later. "I think I saw someone."

Frank shrugged. "Okay, you see people every day. What makes this any different?"

"Because it's someone I'm not supposed to be seeing. Not ever."

"I'm confused," Joe said.

"I shouldn't be seeing him because he's supposed to be dead," Nancy admitted.

"We're on the edge of our seats, Nan. If you're waiting for the big build up, you've got it," Frank said, his focus solely on Nancy.

"I thought I saw Dominic Shepard."

Joe's eyes narrowed. "Why in the world does that name sound familiar to me?"

"Because he's the freak that went after Nancy a few years ago," Frank said, his voice chilling.

Recognition dawned in Joe's blue eyes. "He's the one who copied those murders in that book!"

Nancy nodded.

"Why would you think you saw him?" Frank asked.

"I was getting ready to leave the Penny Blake crime scene when I felt someone watching me. I turned around and I could have sworn I saw him standing in the crowd," Nancy explained. "But when I looked back up he wasn't there so I just played it off to my imagination."

"What do you really think?" Joe asked.

"I don't know," Nancy confessed. "I don't want to believe it because like I said, it's not possible."

The brothers said nothing as they exchanged a look with each other.

"I mean, I guess I could call B.D. tomorrow and ask him about it. He's the one who told me Dom was dead—he wouldn't lie about that."

"No, he wouldn't," Frank agreed. "Not when he was doing everything in his power to bring Dom down."

"If it is true, then we need to be prepared," Joe commented.

Nancy sighed. "That's exactly why I didn't want to tell you guys. I don't want you two to overreact if it turns out to be nothing. I can't deal with that."

"If it turns out to be true though, then we know who our killer is," Frank argued. "And if that's the case, then we know why he's been targeting these women."

Joe nodded gravely. "It's because he's targeting you the entire time, Nancy. And he's not going to stop until you're dead."


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, I was able to get another update out before I went on my mini-vacation. Thanks again for all of the comments—PrincessOrganaSkywalker, dares to dream, Destiny J. Adams, IrishShamrock8 and franknjoe. They mean so much to me and it's so nice to know that you guys are enjoying this one. It's just making me realize how much I missed writing for this fandom.**

**Still no action in this chapter but I think I have some lined up in the next one. **

**I really hope you enjoy it and please, let me know what you think!**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 6**

As soon as Nancy and Frank returned to their apartment after dinner, she set off for the phone. She wanted answers and she knew the only person who may be able to do that was B.D. Hawkins, her close personal friend on the River Height Police Department. The last time she'd really worked with him was when they were working on the Dominic Shepard case and he'd been a lieutenant then. Since that time, he'd been promoted to Captain of the department. Though they now lived miles apart, Nancy still tried to keep in touch with him when she could.

Dialing his cell phone number, she was happy when he answered on the second ring.

"_Well, if it isn't His Girl Friday herself."_

Nancy smiled at the nickname from the 1940 comedy starring Cary Grant and Rosiland Russell. In the movie, Cary Grant played Walter Burns, an editor of a newspaper whose ex-wife Hildy Johnson, played by Rosalind Russell, was ready to leave the life of a reporter to settle down with another man. Burns does everything he can to sabotage her hopes of a new life and eventually gets her back.

"Looks like someone's been watching a little bit too much _Turner Classic Movies_ lately," Nancy teased.

B.D. chuckled. _"I have a lot of time to kill now that you're not running around River Heights causing trouble."_

"Hey, I never caused any trouble," Nancy protested.

"_Oh, that's right…you always_ _found yourself in trouble. I seem to get that confused all the time."_

"I recall giving you quite a bit of help with some cases."

"_And I recall you getting involved when they were clearly a police matter."_

"Semantics, B.D."

The captain let out another chuckle. _"So, tell me what I can do for you tonight, Ms. Drew."_

"Why do you always assume I want something?"

"_Oh, I'm sorry—I must be speaking to another Nancy Drew."_

"Ha ha…very funny."

"_Spill kid."_

"I was wondering if I could actually meet with you tomorrow. If you're not busy, that is."

"_Well, of course I'm busy," _B.D. replied. _"But I can always make time for you, Nancy."_

Nancy smiled. "Thanks, B.D."

"_Don't mention it. Can I ask what you're wanting to talk about?"_

"I'd rather discuss it in person," Nancy admitted. "It's just not something I want to get into right now. I'm kinda beat and I just don't think I can take any more excitement today."

"_Well, that's vague enough to annoy the hell out of me."_

"Sorry."

"_It better be good, Drew," _B.D. warned, but there was no malice in his voice.

"Oh, believe me—it very well could be."

Nancy ended the call with the captain and hung up the phone. Resting an elbow on the counter, she propped her head up, her thoughts all a mess. She knew things were only going to get complicated if her fears about Dom were true—it was going to be a circus and she never was a fan of circuses. She knew Frank and Joe would be even more on their guard and while she appreciated it, she just didn't know how much of it she could truly take.

But worst of all was the threat of Dom possibly being out there. That thought alone scared her more than she would ever care to admit because after all these years, he would be even more unstable and methodical. And Nancy knew Joe was right about the killer—he wouldn't stop until Nancy was dead. After all, she'd gotten away from him twice and he'd tried to kill her three times already, even going so far as stabbing her in her own home. There was no hoping that he'd just let go of it all and let her live the life she'd established with Frank.

It never seemed to work out like that for Nancy.

"Did you get a hold of B.D.?" Frank asked, kissing her on the top of her head.

Nancy nodded. "I'm going to drive to River Heights tomorrow and talk to him. I didn't want to say anything over the phone—it kind of seemed like I conversation I need to have face-to-face with him."

"You know he's going to freak."

"Yeah," Nancy agreed, sighing loudly. "Just add him to the list of people around me who's starting to freak based on a very unlikely possibility."

"But the fact that you think its possible makes it real for us," Frank argued, sitting beside her. "If it was anyone else, we probably would have laughed if off by now."

"It's just crazy though, right? I mean, I think I would feel a whole lot better if I was just losing my mind."

"What time were you planning on leaving tomorrow?" Frank asked, changing the subject, for which Nancy was grateful. That always was the great thing about Frank—he could sense when she was rambling and he didn't allow her to dwell on it.

"Pretty early. I was thinking after I was finished talking with B.D., I might go visit Dad for a while."

"That sounds like a good plan—we haven't seen him in a while."

Nancy arched a brow. "What is this 'we' business? I don't remember inviting you to come along. You have to work.

Frank grinned. "The great thing about owning your own business? You can take off whenever you please."

"There's no talking you out of this, is there?"

"You can try."

Nancy rolled her eyes as she slid off the barstool. "No thanks—it would be like trying to budge the Great Wall of China—never gonna happen."

Frank smiled. "Took you long enough to realize that."

Nancy answered that by throwing a kitchen towel at him, laughing when it smacked him in the face.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Frank and Nancy were up by seven and on the road towards River Heights by eight. It wasn't that long of a drive, maybe about forty-five minutes or so, depending on traffic. He'd called Joe before they'd gone to bed the night before, telling him what they were going to do. Joe had offered to ride along with them, but Frank had declined, explaining that Nancy was reluctant enough for Frank to join her. He didn't want Nancy to feel like they were smothering her and Joe understood, asking Frank to let him know if they found out anything.

Frank couldn't really blame Nancy for her reluctance to tell them about Dom. It was a sore subject for her and something she still had nightmares about, even five years later. The killer had really gotten to her and it had been hard to watch Nancy those first few months after his death. From what he'd gathered from her dad and Hannah, she had constant nightmare and was jumpy at the slightest noise. Even when they would talk on the phone, she hadn't sounded like herself.

Frank had really hoped they could put it behind them, but here it was again, rearing its ugly head. The young man really didn't know if Nancy would be able to handle it if Dom was in fact very much alive. He didn't know how he would be able to sit back and watch her torture herself.

"You sure are quiet over there," Nancy said softly, breaking into Frank's thoughts.

Frank shrugged as he took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at her. "Just thinking."

"About anything in particular?"

"Just…stuff."

Nancy smiled and squeezed his hand. "What was Joe going to do today?"

"Just working on a couple of other small cases we have piling up at the office. I told him to take a break from the murders, maybe get a clear head about them."

"That's a good idea."

"I tend to have one every now and then."

"I can't argue with that—you did marry me, after all," she teased.

Frank lifted their clasped hands up to his lips and kissed hers softly. "Best idea I ever had."

The rest of the drive continued in companionable silence, each person lost in their thoughts. Frank was content to drive in silence—they rarely got the chance to have a quiet moment to themselves, what with work and other things that seemed to pop up so when they did get one, they tended to relish in it.

Pulling up to the police station, Frank parked the car and the two of them walked up to the front entrance. Opening the door, Frank stepped back and allowed Nancy to enter first.

"Well, if it isn't our very own Nancy Drew," the cheerful desk sergeant said with a smile. "Don't tell me Chicago has gotten too boring for you already."

"Hardly, Ellen," Nancy said with her own smile. She nudged Frank. "You remember Frank, don't you?"

"How could I forget him? He's made himself known in these parts, along with that younger brother of his," Ellen replied. She turned her smile on Frank. "How is that little flirt these days?"

Frank gave a roll of his eyes. "Still very much a flirt."

"That boy would flirt with a tree if he could," she commented affectionately. Though she was in her fifties or so, Frank remembered every time Joe set foot in the police station, he made her feel like a teen all over again.

"You're right about that," the older Hardy agreed wholeheartedly.

"Is B.D. in?" Nancy asked.

Ellen nodded. "He is—told me to expect you and to send you right back as soon as you got here."

"It was good talking to you, Ellen," Frank said, as they walked around the desk. Reaching over, he gave the older woman a hug.

"You too, honey." Reaching out an arm, she grasped Nancy by her shoulders and squeezed her close to her. "And you see about getting our girl here back to these parts more often. We don't see her enough anymore."

"I'll try my best," Frank assured her.

Following Nancy, they made their way to B.D.'s small office at the back of the building. He nodded in greeting as several officers and staff called out to them. "You would think you've been gone for a couple of years instead of a couple of months, the way people are calling out to you," he said softly.

Nancy laughed. "They sure never was like this when I lived here. They were willing to do anything to get me to go away."

Coming to an open doorway, Nancy knocked softly. "You busy or just pretending to be busy for my benefit?" she asked the man sitting at the desk who was currently staring at a computer screen.

"It's entirely for your benefit," the man replied. "I was hoping if I looked busy, you would just turn around and leave."

"Not a chance, B.D."

Captain B.D. Hawkins rose from his desk, smiling, as he came around and enveloped Nancy in a warm hug. He still pretty much looked the same as he always did with his short blonde hair, casual attire and his signature cowboy boots—all the things that made him B.D.

"It's always good to see you, Nancy."

"You too, B.D. Someone has to keep you in line around here."

The captain grinned at her and then turned his attention to Frank. Thrusting a hand out, he shook the other man's hand. "I'm especially glad to see she isn't alone. Have you managed to keep our girl out of trouble?"

Frank shrugged. "I'm doing the best I can, but you know how she can be sometimes."

"Hey!" Nancy protested, hitting them both on the arm. "I did not come here to have the two of you to gang up on me. It's a good thing Joe isn't here or I would be drowning in testosterone."

B.D. laughed as he walked back around to his desk and sat down. Pointing to the two chairs in front on him, he asked, "So what brings the two of you here that you couldn't talk about on the phone?"

"Before I say anything, you have to promise not to think I'm crazy," Nancy began.

B.D. leaned back in his cushioned chair, linking his hands together behind his head. "This has to be pretty good for you to start off like that."

Nancy exchanged a glance with Frank and he nodded encouragingly. Taking a deep breath, she asked, "Have you been hearing about the murders in Chicago?"

"The serial case?" B.D. nodded. "Yeah, I've been checking in with it—good articles, by the way."

"Thanks," Nancy said with a small smile. Well, we're here because of that."

"Explain."

"Nancy thinks she saw something—_someone_—yesterday," Frank spoke up.

"Guys, enough with the riddles already."

"B.D., are you sure that Dominic Shepard is dead?" Nancy blurted out.

The captain's eyes widened and he sat straight up in his chair. "What the hell would make you ask that?"

Nancy and Frank didn't reply.

B.D. leaned forward, crossing his arms on his desk as realization dawned on him. "Is that who you're saying you saw yesterday?"

Nancy shrugged.

The older man shook his head emphatically. "No way, Nancy—there's no way. I saw his body in the morgue myself."

"There's no way it could have been…" Nancy's voice trailed off, almost as if she was unsure of herself. Frank reached over and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Could have been what, Nancy?" B.D. was looking at her intently, but there was also concern in his eyes.

"Faked?" Nancy asked weakly.

B.D. actually considered that for a minute or so. "I just don't see how he could pull that off," he finally replied. "He would have to have someone on the inside to help him and I just don't know who would be that crazy to do so."

"Someone could have been forced," Frank suggested.

B.D. walked around his desk and perched on the corner in front of Frank and Nancy. "I don't see how that's possible. I hit him more than once—I'm a good shot, even if I wasn't intentionally trying to kill the bastard. But even in his condition, he wouldn't be able to force someone to help him."

"I guess you're right," Nancy admitted.

"Look, if it will make you feel any better, I'll tell you the doctor who worked on Shepard. You can talk to her about it."

"Thanks, B.D."

The captain walked around his desk to the file cabinet in the back corner. Going to the second drawer, he shuffled through some files before he came to the one he was seeking. Bringing it back to his desk, he opened it up and jotted down something on a small piece of paper.

"I think she moved to Chicago a few years ago to the hospital up there," B.D. said, closing the folder. "But she's a damn good doctor and she should be able to tell you something. She wouldn't screw around—she's too devoted to her profession."

"We really appreciate all the help, B.D.," Frank said, rising up out of his chair. He held out his hand to the policeman and B.D. shook it.

"It's really not a problem at all," the man admitted. "Maybe the next time you come, it will just be for pleasure."

"Hopefully so."

B.D. focused his attention on Nancy, resting his hands on her shoulders so he could look her directly in the eyes. "I don't want you to worry about a thing—Dominic Shepard is dead and he's not coming back in this lifetime. You'll see that I'm right."

Nancy nodded.

"Now, you two be careful on the drive back. If you need anything else, just let me know."


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys!**

**I'm back with another update and I do give you some action in this one! I want to thank everyone that has been reading and especially Destiny J. Adams, PrincessSkywalkerOrgana, SarahE7191 and dares to dream for their wonderful comments.**

**SarahE7191—I have Nancy keeping her maiden name, since everyone knows her as that and she uses it as her professional name. In my mind, that's something that she would do no matter who she was married to, just to erase confusion. I am glad you asked about that and please, don't hesitate to every question anything.**

**I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and I will get a chapter out as soon as I can, hopefully in the next few days or so.**

**All mistakes are my own and I apologize in advance.**

**Reviews are love!**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 7**

The first thing Nancy wanted to do as soon as they got out of the police station was to get on the phone with the doctor B.D. had told them about. If anyone could really give her the answers she was seeking, it would be her. But Nancy knew she would rather meet with this doctor face-to-face—it was how she was able to accurately gauge a person's sincerity. Sure, she could get a pretty good reading on someone by just speaking with them but she'd learned long ago that people were good at hiding things if they had the right motivation.

So, if nothing else she figured she could at least set up an appointment with the doctor.

"What are you doing?" Frank asked as she pulled out her cell phone from her purse.

"I'm calling this doctor, see if she's willing to talk to me."

"I thought you wanted to see your dad," Frank replied as he started the car. "We probably won't get back to Chicago until some time tonight."

"I know. I figure she has to be busy so I'm just giving her a heads-up," Nancy explained as she dialed Information. "I'll go talk to her tomorrow."

Frank smiled but said nothing.

"What?" Nancy asked, glancing sideways at him.

"Nothing."

Nancy pushed her reply aside as the operator came on the line. "I need the number for a Dr. Sophie Dawson, please."

"_Would you like me to connect your call for you?"_

"Sure."

"_Please hold."_

Nancy turned her attention back to Frank as she waited for the operator to connect her call. "You don't think I can do it, do you?"

Frank shook his head as he steered the car towards the Drew residence. "I didn't say that."

"_Hello?" _asked a feminine voice, stopping Nancy from answering Frank.

"Is this Dr. Dawson?"

"_It is."_

"The same Dr. Dawson who worked at River Heights General?"

"_Who is this?"_

"My name is Nancy Drew—I'm a reporter for the _Chicago Tribune_."

"_What is this about, Ms. Drew?"_

"I actually need to ask you about a patient you worked on a few years ago—Dominic Shepard."

"_I remember him—he was that killer that was terrorizing River Heights, right?"_

"Yes."

"_What about him?"_

"Well, I was wondering if I could actually come talk to you in person."

"_I don't know, Ms. Drew—I'm very busy."_

"I understand that, Doctor. I would only need a few minutes of your time," Nancy promised.

The doctor was silent for a few moments and Nancy was afraid that she'd hung up on her. Finally she said, _"Come by the hospital tomorrow—emergency ward. Maybe you can catch me between patients."_

"Thank you so much."

Nancy hung up the phone and turned her head to smile at Frank. "See? I can contain myself on occasion."

"Yeah," Frank agreed with a hint of a smile. "And watch it drive you crazy—you'll be tossing and turning all night."

"Whatever."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sophie Dawson hung up the phone, staring at it with a tinge of fear. She didn't like the way Nancy was asking questions and it could only mean that soon enough, people were going to realize what she had done. They would know she helped Dom fake his death and that she was helping him kill again—they would take him away from her and she didn't know if she could handle that.

He was the best thing that had happened to her in a very long time. Sure, she had the medical degree and a career she absolutely loved but when she met Dom in that hospital a few years ago, she found passion in her life. It was something that had been missing and now it was something she never wanted to let go. But she knew how people would react when they found out the truth.

They would hunt them down like they were a couple of monsters. They would separate them, never allowing them to be together again. Sophie didn't know if she could live without Dom—it was something she'd never envisioned before and she didn't care to. It was that simple—there was no life if she couldn't have him.

Sophie knew she had to let Dom know—he would be pissed and he would take care of it, just like he always took care of her. He wouldn't let anything happen to them; he'd promised her that much and he always kept his word when it came to Sophie.

Dialing a number, she smiled in relief when his voice greeted her. "Hey, babe. I think we might be in trouble."

"_What do you mean?" _Dom asked, a hint of panic in his voice.

"I just got a phone call from Nancy Drew—she was asking questions about you," Sophie explained. "She wants to meet with me tomorrow."

Dom was silent for a few moments. _"Don't worry about a thing, love. I'll take care of everything. You trust me to do that, don't you?"_

"I trust you more than anything."

"_Meet with her tomorrow. Find out what she wants to know and answer any question she asks."_

"But what will I say?"

"_You'll think of something," _Dom assured her. _"I know you can do it, babe."_

"What about you?"

"_I think it may be time to send her a little message myself."_

"What kind of message?" Sophie knew she was pushing her luck with the questions. Dom had a way of closing her off when he became focused on something. But she had to know that he would be safe—she had to know he would still come back to her.

"_Don't worry your pretty head about a thing."_

"Okay."

"_I mean it, Sophie. I'm not going to let anything happen to us."_

And she knew that he did mean it—Dom was going to take care of it all. "I love you, Dom."

"_I love you, too."_

Sophie hung up the phone feeling much better about everything.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I didn't know you were coming out here today," Carson Drew said as Nancy and Frank walked into his law office in downtown River Heights. He was sitting at his desk, working his way through a stack of papers.

"We thought we would surprise you," Nancy said as she hugged him tightly. "How have you been doing?"

Carson held out a hand for Frank and shook. "It's good to see you too, Frank."

"The same here, Carson."

Carson smiled at his daughter. "I've been swamped these last couple of weeks. I was supposed to be off today, but I figured I would come in and try to get caught up on some paperwork." He sat down behind his desk. "What are you kids up to?"

"We came to talk to B.D. about a couple of things," Nancy answered as she and Frank sat down.

"About a case?"

"Yeah…kind of."

Nancy didn't really want to discuss Dominic Shepard with her father. After Carson had been blackmailed by the killer to represent him in his trial, it took a long while for Nancy and her father to get their relationship back on track. Nancy felt as if she had been betrayed by him, no matter how Carson tried to explain the situation to her. Her father had given Nancy her space after the fallout and had allowed her to come around without pushing her, which made the young woman gain respect for him once more.

The emotional distance between them had been palpable, made even harder by the fact that they were still living in the same house. Even Hannah Gruen, their longtime housekeeper, had tried to intervene and get the Drew household back as one but neither father nor daughter wanted to listen. Nancy could remember all the times she'd wanted to just hug her dad and tell him she forgave him but there was always something that held her back. Finally, deciding enough was enough and realizing she was being childish, she'd sucked it up and they were able to salvage their relationship as if nothing had happened.

Even though they'd both put the situation behind them, Nancy was afraid that animosity would come crashing back if she even mentioned Dom's name. She knew she couldn't handle that again; she didn't want to.

Almost as if he sensed her apprehension, Frank spoke up. "It was about a case Joe and I are working on. I thought I could use a fresh set of eyes and Nancy decided to come with me so she could see you."

Nancy gave Frank's hand a gentle squeeze, gazing at him gratefully. Frank said nothing as he returned the squeeze. It was times like this that Nancy was so grateful to have the dark-haired man in her life.

Carson smiled. "I'm definitely glad to see the two of you. It's always a welcome distraction from work."

"I thought you were going to start taking it easy," Nancy commented as she nodded at the stack of folders sitting on the corner of the lawyer's oak desk.

Carson shrugged sheepishly. "I tried…"

"But he just doesn't know when to stop," a feminine voice chimed in from the open doorway.

Nancy smiled as she turned in her seat to see District Attorney Gwen Lawson gazing at her father with love in her big green eyes. Today, her long raven hair was pulled back into a chignon and she looked every bit the professional in a burgundy suit that flattered her slender figure.

"Gwen, it's so great to see you!" Nancy exclaimed as she jumped up from her seat to give the other woman a warm hug.

"How are you, Nancy?" Gwen asked as she held Nancy away at arm's length to study her.

"I'm doing really well."

"That's wonderful!" Gwen smiled down at Frank. "And how are you, Frank?"

"Great, thank you for asking."

"Gwen, I didn't know you were popping by," Carson stated as she walked around the desk and kissed his cheek.

"Court let out early and I didn't have any other cases, so I figured I would surprise you." The DA smiled at Nancy and Frank. "Looks like I wasn't the only one with that idea."

Nancy watched with a fond smile as the older couple gazed at each other. She was glad that her father had been able to find love—it had been a long time coming and it seemed to be doing wonders for him. He looked healthier and a glow suddenly enveloped him as the elegant woman stood by his side. While Nancy had been jealous before of other women dating her dad, she truly was pleased with Gwen and the way she'd been able to open up his eyes to love once again. She was afraid he'd never experience the feeling again, her mother's death all those years ago still an open wound.

"I was wondering you if you mind joining me for lunch," Gwen said to Carson.

"Oh, well…" Carson began, glancing at Nancy.

The titian-haired woman waved a hand. "We need to be hitting the road anyway," she said quickly as she stood up, Frank following suit.

"Don't be silly, Nancy," Gwen said, smiling brightly. "We would love for you and Frank to join us. It would be rude to run you off when you just got here."

"Really, Gwen, you don't have to do that. I'm sure you and Dad want to spend some time together."

"Carson and I can always spend time together," she argued. "I insist."

Nancy glanced over at Frank. "It's up to you."

"It sounds good to me," Frank said, grinning.

Gwen clapped her hands together, beaming at everyone. "Good, then it's settled."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joe Hardy sighed as he walked out of the office he shared with his brother, glancing up at the sky to see that rain was threatening. He couldn't remember there being a forecast for rain, but then again, nine times out of ten the weatherman was usually wrong. He could predict a sunny day and the next thing you know, a tornado was heading your way. That usually was means to fire a person for being unable to perform their job duties, but for some reason the local news station Joe always tuned to kept the weatherman around.

_I'm just waiting for the day the city goes after the dude with pitchforks and torches. And hopefully, they'll let me lead it…_

Joe's mood slightly lightened, he got into his truck and started the ignition. He was on his way to one of the clients Frank had asked him to talk to while he was out of town with Nancy. Joe had to admit, he was grateful for the break from the murders. They were getting nowhere fast with it and the younger Hardy was tired of going home every night with a headache. It was times like that that made him wonder why he even bothered continued being a detective.

He never was a patient guy—he wanted results as soon as the problem was presented. Frank was the one who usually kept them grounded and kept them pushing forward. Joe was the one who would rather run in, guns blazing and get it over with. Senseless acts of crime still didn't make sense to him, even after all this time of being a detective. It just amazed him how cruel people could be to their fellow humans and this case was no exception.

There was just no reason why all these women should have been murdered. There was no reason why the city of Chicago had to live in a constant state of fear from an unknown killer. There was no reason why the police had to struggle to come up with some tangible leads and false assurances that everything was going to be okay. It was just so frustrating for Joe and he just wanted it to end.

And if that wasn't enough, he now had to deal with the fact that Nancy—a girl that he always felt as if was his long-lost sister—was possibly seeing a dead man on the streets of Chicago. Joe would be stupid if he said he wasn't slightly freaked—for Nancy and for the thought of Dominic Shepard being out there, terrorizing the public. The man didn't deserve to live for what he had done to the citizens of River Heights—he'd set out to kill the people Nancy knew, knowing just where to hit her emotionally.

Joe just couldn't believe that the psycho was still out there; it just wasn't possible. And if he was, why had he been dormant these last few years? Just what exactly had he been waiting for and why start now?

Sighing, Joe pushed the thoughts of Dom out of his head. Turning on the radio, he found an alternative rock station, cranking up the volume as Soundgarden's _The Day I Tried to Live_ emitted from the speakers. As he headed out of the city limits, bobbing his head and singing along with Chris Cornell, he failed to notice the nondescript car following closely behind.

What he did notice, however, was the sudden downpour drenching the roadway and the unexpected impact as his truck was hit from behind. Cursing, Joe struggled to maintain control over the pickup as he quickly glanced into the rearview mirror to see the car coming again for another try. Pressing his foot down on the accelerator, Joe sped up, wary of the treacherous roadway conditions.

"What the hell is going on?" Joe muttered.

The car caught up, once again colliding with the back of Joe's truck.

Joe yelled in frustration as the impact caused him to swerve towards the shoulder. For a few tense moments, the younger Hardy thought he wouldn't be able to get the vehicle back on the road, but he let out a sight of relief when the sound of wheels on pavement greeted his ears.

His relief was short-lived as the car pulled around to the left and smashed into the driver's side, pushing the truck violently towards the side of the road. Joe tried in vain to steer the pickup back towards the road, but with the heavy curtain of rain it was just impossible.

Joe didn't even have time to brace himself as his Ford crashed into a stand of trees, the pitter-patter of rain the only sound to be heard.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

**I'm thinking I didn't mention anything about a cliffie, huh? *evil laugh***


	8. Chapter 8

**I want to thank ronniegirls, Destiny J. Adams, KennaC, PrincessSkywalkerOrgana, dares to dream and SarahE7191 for your lovely comments and everyone else who has stopped by to read and too shy to comment. I am so happy that you guys are enjoying this.**

**But also with the good, there has to be bad. I wanted to point out this review that I got from an anonymous reviewer named Clara: **_Joe in jep. Nancy in jep. Frank doing nothing but standing around and worrying. Z. Knew I was only skimming this story for a reason. I'll move on to something more promising now._

**I point this out because I want her to know that this doesn't phase me. You can flame me all you want and I am still going to write a story how I want. If you don't want to read it, that perfectly okay with me. But if you leave a comment like that then you better believe I am going to see the positive in it and just be on my merry way smiling. Maybe she didn't realize that that review, whether bad or not, still counts as review for me. And every single time she "skimmed" my story, that counted as a hit for me. The fact that you had to take the time to tell me that my story was bad shows me you have nothing better to do with your time and you enjoy belittling people. It has to make me wonder if you're a writer and if you are, please show it so I can see what true talent is since I obviously don't have any.**

**And while I may be okay with a flame, it isn't right to do it to others. You will never see me reading a story and leave a comment telling them how bad it is. There is nothing wrong with leaving a concrit—tell a writer what it is that you think needs improvement and I am sure they will appreciate it and try to work on it. Everyone always wants to get better at their craft, but they won't do it if you're downright mean about it.**

**Okay, long rant is over—on with the chapter. We pick right back up with Joe since I left ya'll with a cliffie…**

**As always, all mistake are my own and let me know what you think, good or bad.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 8**

Joe groaned, feeling blood ooze down his face from where his head hit the steering wheel. Muscle protesting the movement, Joe sat back in his seat as gingerly as he could. The droning of rain could still be heard but it was nothing compared to the pounding in his skull, almost as if a drum major was giving the show of his life and Joe unfortunately had front row seats.

Hearing the sound of a car door slam, Joe squinted as he turned his head to the left to see who was standing outside his window. He wasn't sure if it was the person who had tried to run him off the road or a Good Samaritan offering him help. Whoever it was, he wasn't in much of a position to do much—there was an excruciating pain in his right arm and he didn't need a doctor to tell him it was broken. Add to that, pain shot through him no matter how little he moved and his vision was blurry, at best, especially in his right eye, blood from the wound on his forehead caking it closed.

The driver's side door opened and Joe tried to scoot away as the rain soaked him through, but the pain made it impossible to move too far.

"I really wouldn't move if I were you, Joe," a male voice said mockingly, sending chills down the young Hardy's spine. "You may hurt yourself."

Joe knew that voice—there was no mistaking it. Turning his head slightly, even through his blurred vision, he would know those blue eyes anywhere. "Shepard."

Dominic Shepard smiled. "I'm flattered you remember me."

"You're supposed…to be…dead," Joe gasped out.

Dom smirked. "Got better."

"So what? You're going…to kill me?"

The killer cocked his head to the side. "As fun as that may sound, you're not the one I want. You're just the one to deliver the message."

"What…message?"

Dom lowered himself so he was eye level with Joe and pulled out a knife from a sheath at the back of his jeans. He smiled when he saw Joe's eyes widen in shock. "Tell everyone I'm back and this time, it's going to take more than a gunshot to get rid of me."

Before Joe could react, Dom thrust the blade of the knife into his gut, his yell of pain drowned out by a clap of thunder.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Thank you so much for lunch, Gwen," Frank said, sitting back in his chair with a contended sigh. The District Attorney had treated them for Alfresco's, an Italian restaurant a couple of blocks away from Carson's law office.

"It was my pleasure," Gwen said with a smile. "It's not very often that I get to do this. I'm always so busy, I don't get a chance to relax, much less taste my food when I eat," she added with a chuckle.

Frank nodded in understanding. "I know the feeling."

"You two are still young," Gwen protested. "You shouldn't stay so busy—you have the rest of your life to work yourself to death. Now's the time to just be together. Believe me, I wish I had learned that lesson when I first got married."

"I didn't know you were married," Nancy said, surprised.

The elegant woman nodded. "When I got out of college—he was my high school sweetheart. I was too focused on my career and he couldn't deal with it so we got a divorce."

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." Gwen glanced over at Carson and smiled. "I found your father. If I had still been married, I wouldn't know what an incredible man your dad is."

"I think you're slightly exaggerating," Carson commented, a slight blush creeping up in his cheeks.

"Don't sell yourself short, Dad," Nancy said. "I have to agree with Gwen."

Frank's cell phone rang, cutting off Carson from replying. _I thought I had put that on silent_, he thought. Frank was one of those people who couldn't stand to talk on a phone in a restaurant—it wasn't the place for it and he did his best to avoid speaking on it at all costs.

"Sorry," he apologized as he reached into his pocket and pulled it out. He glanced at the screen to see an unknown number. "I thought I'd turned it off. Excuse me."

Getting up from the table, he clicked it on and walked towards the lobby. "This is Frank Hardy."

"_Mr. Hardy, my name is Michelle Carter. I'm a nurse at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. I'm calling in regards to a patient that was admitted here—Joe Hardy."_

Frank felt as if the floor fell out from underneath him. He glanced back at the table, his wide brown eyes catching Nancy's blue ones. "That's my brother…what happened?" Frank was almost too afraid to ask.

"_I'm afraid that your brother was involved in an accident. We have him stabilized for now but he is unconscious and has been since he was brought in."_

Frank sank down onto one of the booths, thankful that it was there. "How bad is it?"

"_It's…not good."_

"Oh, God."

"_We have him placed in the ICU ward."_

"Thank you. I'll be there as soon as I can." Frank slowly lowered the phone from his ear, his mouth dry. Joe couldn't be hurt; he had to be okay. Frank couldn't accept it any other way, not when it came to his little brother.

"Frank, what's going on?" Nancy asked softly, a slight edge of fear to her voice.

Frank figured his expression had to be scaring her to death and he was glad there wasn't a mirror nearby. He cleared his throat. "Um, it's Joe…there was some kind of accident. He's at the hospital right now—they said it's not good."

"Oh my God," Nancy gasped, bringing her hands up to her mouth.

"Are you kids okay?" Carson asked, joining them with Gwen in tow. "What happened?"

"Dad, we have to go back to Chicago," Nancy answered quickly. "Joe was involved in an accident."

"Is he okay?" Carson asked, concern in his voice.

"I'm not sure," Frank answered standing up, clutching Nancy close to him. He needed something real to hold on to. He needed the strength she possessed afraid that if he didn't have it, he would just lose his mind right there. "I'm sorry to cut lunch so short."

"Don't be crazy—you have to go to Joe," Gwen said.

"Yes, don't worry about us," Carson agreed. "Be careful on the drive back and please, give your brother our best."

"I will." Frank dug the keys out of his pocket and handed them to Nancy. He didn't trust himself behind the wheel, not right now. He didn't want to put him and Nancy in the same position as his little brother. "Will you drive?"

Nancy nodded. "Sure."

As his wife led him towards their car, Frank couldn't do anything to quell the fear in his chest. _Please, just let him be okay._

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Frank, he's going to be okay," Nancy said for what had to be the fiftieth time or so. If truth be told, Frank lost count after the tenth time she said it. He knew she was saying it as much for her benefit as for his but her voice was starting to lose its confidence and optimism.

"Yeah," Frank agreed weakly, if only to assure her he appreciated the effort.

They were almost to the hospital, Nancy having driven past the speed limit for most of the drive until they'd hit Chicago, where the streets were wet. Even now, a light drizzle fell on them as she weaved her way through the traffic.

Frank had spent a good portion of the ride filling in Fenton and Laura Hardy on their youngest son's condition. His mother had wanted to board a plane right then and there but Frank had convinced her it wasn't necessary, that he would keep them up-to-date with news as soon as he got it. She had still seemed unsure but Fenton had told Frank not to worry about her, that he would calm her down.

"Hey, we're here."

Frank jerked at the sound of Nancy's voice, surprised to see they were in the parking garage of the huge hospital. He watched her as she grabbed her purse from the backseat, his eyes never straying as she tossed the keys and her cell phone into the bag. Seeing that she was opening her car door, Frank followed suit in a trance-like state.

Meeting him in the middle, Nancy grabbed his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. She didn't say anything, only gave him an encouraging smile though he could sense how clearly freaked she was, whether it was from Joe's accident or Frank's response to it.

_Probably both_, Frank thought. _I don't think she's ever seen me like this. _

In fact, Frank couldn't understand his own reaction; sure, he'd seen Joe get hurt lots of times, but all those times Frank could remember exactly what led to it and just how badly his little brother was hurt. Frank really thought it was the fact that he didn't exactly know what he was walking into. The nurse had been vague at best and Frank couldn't help but worry that he was about to be faced with a lot worse.

The older Hardy liked to know what he was dealing with—he didn't like surprises, especially when it concerned the ones he loved.

Looking on the building directory placed in the middle of the lobby, the couple saw that the ICU ward was on the eighth floor. Riding up in silence, as soon as the doors opened, they walked to the nurses' station.

"Excuse me," Frank said, causing a nurse who was working at the computer to look up at him expectantly. "My name is Frank Hardy—I got a call saying my brother had an accident and he was up here."

"What is your brother's name?" She asked, pushing her gold-rimmed glasses up on her nose.

"Joe—Joe Hardy."

The nurse consulted a chart sitting on the counter and nodded. "I'm afraid your brother hasn't woken up yet."

"Is there someone I can talk to about him?"

"Actually, his doctor is speaking with the police about him right now. Just keep going straight down this hall and it's the second door to your right—they're in a conference room."

"Thank you."

Nancy and Frank walked hand-in-hand to the door the nurse pointed out. Knocking softly, Frank opened it when a voice offered an invitation in. Seated around a table was an older doctor with salt and pepper hair wearing a lab coat, along with a uniformed policeman and another man dressed in a suit.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Frank said apologetically. "The nurse said you could tell me about my brother—Joe Hardy."

The doctor rose from his chair. "I'm Dr. Walker. Please come in and have a seat."

"Thank you," Frank said. He held out his hand towards the doctor. "I'm Frank and this is my wife, Nancy."

The doctor shook his hand and Nancy's before introducing the other two men. "This is Officer Allan and Detective Chesney. They're working on your brother's case."

"What exactly is his case?"

"Joe was found on the side of the road in his truck by a passerby an hour or so ago. At first appeared he's just had an accident," Chesney explained.

"What do you mean 'appeared'?" Nancy asked.

"Well, there was damage to the back and the driver's side of the truck, consistent with being rammed into."

"You're saying Joe was forced off the road?" Frank asked, horrified.

"That's our best guess right now," the detective replied. "Also, it also seems that your brother was stabbed."

Nancy gasped. "Stabbed?"

"We're not sure if it happened before or after the accident. Joe will have to answer that for us when he wakes up," Chesney answered and turned his head to look directly at Frank. "Does your brother have any enemies that you know of?"

Frank scoffed. "Where do I start?"

"Excuse me?"

"We're private detectives," Frank explained quickly. "We've been doing it for years. I could fill a phone book with the people who would love to give us some payback."

Detective Chesney's eyes narrowed. "Hardy…I know that name—you give us guys at the police department a bad name."

Frank didn't say anything. He wasn't about to be baited into anything the detective said. He could even tell Chesney that he had nothing but respect for the police since his father used to be on the squad at the NYPD, but he knew it wouldn't serve any purpose in the long run. Instead, he focused his attention on the doctor.

"Is my brother going to be okay?"

Doctor Walker took a deep breath. "It's hard to say right now, considering Joe hasn't woken up yet. He didn't appear to have any serious head trauma besides the bump he took from hitting the steering wheel. He did have quite a bit of internal bleeding and a broken arm, not to mention the stab wound."

"Did it hit anything?"

"No—whoever stabbed him didn't want to kill him, I don't think. But Joe did manage to lose quite a bit of blood before he was found and that does deliver a shock to the system." Walker spread his hands out in a helpless gesture. "His body is trying to get over the shock—it's working on a generator now, if you will. Other than that there's really not much more that I can tell you until he wakes up."

Frank nodded.

"Doctor, how long is it before you really start to get worried?" Nancy asked.

"Ballpark, I would say thirty-six hours. If he isn't awake by then, then I think we need to start to worry."

"Thanks, doc."

"Can we go in to see him?" Frank asked.

"I would rather you hold off until tomorrow if you could," the doctor requested. "He's in a delicate condition right now and I don't want anything to set him off."

"I understand." Frank stood up. "Will you at least call us if there's any change? I don't care what time it is—I want to know."

Walker nodded. "That won't be a problem."

Detective Chesney and the officer stood up as well. "We would like to know as soon as he wakes up as well."

"My brother will talk to you when he's able. I'm not going to force something out of him the second he opens his eyes," Frank said.

"Aren't you worried this could be that freak whose terrorizing the city?" Cheney arched a brow. "You two are working on that case, aren't you?"

"We were hired to look into it, yes."

"If this guy is responsible, don't you want him caught?" His eyes lingered to Nancy. "Especially before someone else has to get hurt—if I'm not mistaken, he's going after your type."

Frank stepped protectively in front of Nancy. "What exactly are you insinuating, Detective?"

"I'm not insinuating anything," Chesney said, smirking. "I'm just making sure you realize what's at stake, Mr. Hardy. You've already a loved one put in here—don't let it happen to another one."

Frank glared at Chesney's back as the detective left the room, accompanied by the officer. Frank didn't like feeling bullied by anyone—not even the police. But as much as he hated to admit it, he knew the jerk was right.

Frank couldn't afford for anyone else to get hurt—or _killed_.


	9. Chapter 9

**I suck for not updating...I know. All I can do is blame it on real life. **

**Thanks for the reviews--I really appreciate them and they truly bring a smile to my face, especially when I've been doubting myself when it comes to writing lately.**

**Not much action in this chapter but if I didn't stop it where it did, it would have went on forever. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!**

**The next update will happen as soon as I can get it finished and all mistakes are my own.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter Nine**

Dom was smiling to himself a few hours later as he walked into the apartment he shared with Sophie. He would definitely qualify today as a win for him, taking out one of the Hardy brothers. He could only imagine what it was doing to Frank and Nancy—the angst, the fear. It was almost like a high for him, something that would make the hippies of the seventies jealous and he didn't want to come down from it. Was he an addict?

Yes, and it was a habit he didn't want to kick.

"Babe, is that you?" Sophie's voice called from the back of the apartment.

"Yeah, it's me." Dom's smile grew as he walked to the bedroom they shared. Sophie was dressed in workout pants, topped with an oversized University of Illinois—Chicago sweatshirt, her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. She always thought she looked homey when she was dressed like that but Dom thought she was nothing short of beautiful.

"You look happy," she commented as he pulled her into an embrace.

"I am happy," he commented before planting a kiss on her lips. "Today was a good day."

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm." Dom left a trail of kisses down her jaw line before moving to her neck. "Let's just say that our little detective friends are having quite a fit at the moment."

Sophie pushed herself away to look at him. "What did you do?"

"What I told you I was going to do, babe. I sent them a message that they aren't soon to forget." Dom turned around to walk into the kitchen, Sophie trailing behind him. Moving to the refrigerator, he grabbed a beer from the top shelf and popped the top, flicking the small aluminum disc into the trash can. "I made sure they knew I was back in town."

Sophie's eyes widened in shock. "I thought you still wanted to stay below the radar."

Dom shrugged as he took a swig from the amber bottle. "I changed my mind. I'm tired of hiding—I'm ready to kick this game up a notch."

Sophie sighed dramatically.

"What?"

"Nothing," she replied before turning her back on him.

Dom closed his eyes in frustration. He really didn't want to deal with her dramatics right now but he knew that would only make her mood plummet even more and he surely wasn't about to put up with that. "What is it?" he asked, grabbing her arm to make her face him once again.

"You're only doing this to get her attention."

"Whose?"

Sophie scoffed. "Oh, come on, Dom. Don't play stupid with me—the only woman you've been obsessing over for the past few years—Nancy Drew."

"Don't start this argument again, Sophie," Dom said gruffly, taking another swig of the alcoholic brew. "It always ends the same way and I'm pretty damn tired of it."

"How do you think I feel?" Sophie demanded. "I have spent the last five years of my life with you, risking everything to make sure you stay safe and now you want to blow it all for some chick you couldn't kill. I have given you everything I've had to offer and you repay me by this sick obsession over her—I mean, it makes me feel as if you've only been using me."

"Be serious, Sophie."

"I am serious, Dom. "

"I thought you understood this," Dom said, whirling around on her. "I gave you an out many times but you refused to take it, you refused to leave me. I told you what I needed to do and you said you would stand beside me."

"And I have!"

Dom shrugged. "Seems to me that you're wanting out now."

"No! I just want you to forget about this damn fixation you have!"

Dom shook his head.

"Of course not," Sophie replied with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

The killer placed the beer bottle on the counter before placing his hands on her arms and rubbing them up and down. Flashing a disarming smile, he gripped her tighter.

"Ow, Dom…you're hurting me."

"Oh, I'll do a lot worse than that," Dom answered before pushing her roughly against the wall. "The way I see it, you're pretty much screwed. You've invested way too much in our little extracurricular activities so if I go down you can be damn sure, you're coming down with me."

"Are you threatening me?"

Dom gave a casual shrug of his shoulder as he brought his hand up and gripped her throat. "Just giving you a fair warning—take it any way you like if it gets the message through that pretty little head of yours." He began to squeeze her neck, a thrill running through his body as he felt her pulse thrumming under his hand. "Now, is there anything else you would like to say to me?"

"I…c-can't….breathe…" Sophie choked out, bringing her hand up to try to pry his grip away.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," he murmured as he squeezed it a little tighter.

"I'm….s-s-sorry," she continued as she clawed desperately at his hand.

Dom chuckled, relishing the fear on her face as she tried frantically to breathe. Finally, after a few more seconds, he abruptly let go of her and she slid down the wall, coughing and sucking down huge gulps of air.

Bending down, he nearly caused her to jump out of her skin as he gripped her chin and looked deep into her frightened eyes. "Now, you're going to do as I say, aren't you?"

Sophie nodded fearfully.

"You're going to meet with Nancy tomorrow and tell her what she wants to know. If I find out you said something that would make me unhappy, I won't hesitate for a second to make you the next victim. Do you understand?"

Again the young woman nodded.

Smiling, Dom kissed her on the lips and stood up. "Glad we can see eye to eye on this. Now, what do you say we go out and grab us a bite to eat?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Nancy let out a huge yawn as she pulled up to the _Chicago Tribune _offices. Last night hadn't been a good night sleep-wise and she was feeling it all throughout her lithe body. If Frank wasn't calling the hospital every hour, on the hour, then he was on the phone with his parents, trying to keep them updated on his brother's status. Nancy had found herself getting dizzy with all of Frank's pacing, but she'd wisely kept her comments to herself. She didn't want to put any more stress on her husband than he already had.

She knew they wouldn't really get any sleep until Joe was out of danger. There'd still been no improvement on his condition as of an hour ago and Frank had left for the hospital as soon as the sun had peeked over the horizon. Nancy couldn't really blame him—she imagined she'd be the same way if she had a sibling of her own. Unfortunately, Nancy never got that chance and it was always the one thing she'd wanted more than anything else.

Looking at her watch as she parked her car, Nancy saw she had about twenty minutes before she had to get to the hospital herself in order to talk to Sophie Dawson. Nancy had to admit, she was excited to talk to the doctor if for nothing more than to assure her that Dominic Shepard was really truly dead. Nancy wanted to believe he really was and the only way she could have that confirmation was to speak directly to Sophie and look into her eyes. Nancy had always been a visual person and she prided herself in her ability to read a person.

Walking into the building, Nancy paid no attention to the other occupant in the elevator as she entered. Pulling out her cell phone, she checked to see if she had any messages.

"I guess it would be too much to hope that you were coming into the offices to talk to me," Barry Campbell's voice sounded in her ear.

Nancy nearly jumped out of her skin before shooting the writer a dark look. "Now's really not the time, Barry."

"So you keep saying."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well this time I actually mean it."

"I heard about your brother-in-law," Barry said, ignoring her comment. "Any word?"

The elevator stopped and the doors opened to Nancy's floor. "How did you hear about that?" she asked as they stepped off and into the bustling newsroom.

Barry just looked around, implying the answer should be obvious. "Did you happen to forget where you work?"

Nancy sighed. "Is there a reason why you're here or is it just to torment me?"

"As much fun as the latter sounds and the fact that you still owe me some juicy tidbits for the book, John actually said I could work on the book here instead of staying in my hotel room the entire time."

"Yay for you," Nancy muttered as she walked into her office and put down her purse and laptop on her desk. Picking up a stack of pink papers, she leafed through her messages from the previous day. "If you'll excuse me, I have work to do myself."

Barry held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, I know when I'm being excused. Just know that I'm going to be popping in and out if I need anything else from you."

Nancy flashed him a sardonic smile. "I can hardly wait."

Letting out a deep breath, Nancy threw her messages on her desk. Sure, she'd agreed—or been ordered—to have Barry follow her around but it was getting to be too much. She couldn't handle it anymore and it was time that John Snyder knew it.

Walking out of her office, she marched straight to the editor-in-chief's office. Without knocking, she strode into the room, startling the man behind the desk.

"Nancy!"

"What were you thinking, letting him stay here and work on that stupid book?"

"Who?"

Nancy narrowed her eyes. "You know perfectly well who—Barry Campbell."

John put down the sheet of paper he'd been reading, placing his customary red pen on top of it before fixing Nancy with an apologetic glance. "I meant to run it by you, Nancy, but you weren't around yesterday and then your brother-in-law's accident…"

It was hard for Nancy to stay mad at her boss when he truly sounded so sincere. But it still didn't make it any better for her with the fact that Barry would still be around. "There has to be some ground rules."

"Name them."

"He doesn't come up to me at any time to ask me anymore questions while I'm working. If he needs to know something, then he can email me and I will answer him when I have the time."

John shrugged. "Sounds fair…but will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Will you answer him if he emails you?"

Nancy flashed John a sweet smile. "I guess he'll just have to wait and see."

John got up from his desk and walked around to stand in front of her. "Look, I know you have a lot on your plate and I know I've told you this before. But I really think this could be good for the newspaper."

"You talk as if the paper is going under. Last I checked, the _Tribune_ was one of the top papers in the country."

"It is but that doesn't mean anything these days with the Internet. More people are wanting to get their news from websites since it's more easily accessible—why spend the money on a piece of paper when they have it right there at their fingertips?"

Nancy didn't say anything.

"I know he frustrates you. Hell, if I want to be completely honest, he frustrates me too." He out his hands on her shoulders and gave them a squeeze. "You've got an amazing story to tell, kid. One that people would love to read."

"I guess…"

"He'll be out of here soon enough," John promised her. "You have my word."

Nancy nodded and glanced down at her watch. "I have to get to the hospital—I have a meeting with a doctor who can hopefully help me out with my story."

"Let us know if you find out anything about your brother-in-law," John said as he walked back around to his desk and sat down. Picking up the pen, he once again began marking on the paper in front of him.

Nancy left her editor to his work and walked back to her office to collect her purse. After making sure it was locked tightly against unwanted visitors—namely Barry—she took the elevator down to the parking garage.

Once she got in her car, she was surprised at how fast she arrived at Northwestern Memorial Hospital, considering Chicago traffic could be a real pain. Unfortunately, her luck ran out as parking turned out to be a real problem. She was unable to park on the first two levels of the parking garage and the only reason she was able to park on the third level was that a car happened to be backing out at the very moment she turned onto that level.

Grabbing her messenger bag, she slung it over her shoulder and locked her car. She'd have to take the elevator down to the first level in order to get to the emergency department. While she rode it down, she checked her cell phone to make sure Frank hadn't called her while she'd been talking to John. Seeing no message from him, she quickly texted him, saying she would be up to see him as soon as she finished talking to Sophie Dawson.

By the time to elevator doors opened, the message had been sent and the phone was tucked away in her pocket. Stepping out, she saw a bustle of activity as the staff walked back and forth, assessing people before assigning them into triage. Being careful to stay out of the way, Nancy went to the admissions desk and asked to speak with Sophie.

"Is she expecting you?" a curly-haired nurse asked, glancing up at Nancy through wire-rimmed glasses.

"Yes, I have an appointment with her."

The nurse didn't say anything as she picked up the phone and dialed a couple of numbers. Soon, Nancy heard her voice reverberate over the speaker system. "Dr. Dawson, you're needed at the admissions desk. Dr. Dawson, you're needed at the admissions desk."

Nancy only had to wait for a couple of minutes before a petite woman with long brown hair, dressed in scrubs and a lab coat pushed through the double doors leading to the triage area.

"Dr. Dawson?" Nancy asked, smiling politely.

The woman turned to look at her. "Can I help you?"

Nancy thrust out her hand. "My name is Nancy Drew. I talked to you on the phone yesterday."

Sophie took her hand and shook it warmly. "Oh, right—I remember. You said you needed to ask some questions about an old patient of mine."

"Dominic Shepard."

"Let's go to my office—we can talk privately there," Sophie said, ushering Nancy through another set of doors to the left. They walked down a short hallway before stopping at the last door to the left. Opening her office door, Sophie allowed Nancy to go in first before following behind her. "I'm afraid I only have a little time to give you—we've been really swamped today. "

"I appreciate any amount of time you can give me." Nancy reached into her bag and pulled out her small notepad and a pen. "I just have a few questions."

"Fire away."

"You treated Dominic Shepard a few years ago when he came into River Heights General, right?"

"I did."

"And he came in with two gunshot wounds to the chest?"

"If I remember correctly—like you said, it was a few years ago."

"The type of wounds he had—was there any chance of him actually surviving it?"

Sophie leaned forward on her desk and narrowed her eyes at Nancy. "Ms. Drew, is there a point to these questions because if there isn't, I really need to get back to my patients."

Nancy sighed. "I know you probably think I'm crazy for asking these questions, but I do have my reasons."

"What reasons are those?"

Nancy took a deep breath. She didn't want the doctor to think she was insane and seen her right up to the mental health ward of the hospital. Of course, with the one theory for the murders flying around, how could anyone not think they were crazy? But the way the woman was staring at her, Nancy couldn't help but want to tell her the truth—she didn't want to see this woman get hurt.

"I'm sure you've heard about the murders around the city, right?"

Sophie nodded. "I have."

"The way they're happening—it's almost exactly reminiscent of the way Dominic Shepard murdered his victims."

"That sounds like a copy-cat to me."

"That's what I thought, too. I still want to believe that. But I thought I saw him a couple of days ago…on the streets of Chicago."

Sophie shook her head. "That's entirely impossible, Ms. Drew. I worked on him myself; he died right there in the ER. There was nothing I could do to save him, not with the extent of his injuries. He was practically dead as soon as he was shot."

"You're sure?"

"I think I know the difference between a living person and a dead person. I have had a little bit of experience with it."

"I'm not questioning the way you perform your job," Nancy said quickly, realizing she had inadvertently insulted the woman. "I just have to be sure for my peace of mind."

"I promise you that he is really dead." Sophie looked at Nancy intently. "I remember reading in the papers how he was obsessed with you. I'm sorry that these murders are dredging up such horrible memories for you but you have nothing to worry about—not as far as Dominic Shepard is concerned."

Nancy let out a relieved sigh and smiled at the doctor. "I should really let you get back to work. Thank you for your time."

"I just hope I helped."

"You did—you have no idea how much you helped."

Putting her notepad into her bag, Nancy got up from her seat and walked out of the office. As she made her way to the elevators, she couldn't help but feel as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.


	10. Chapter 10

**Many thanks to all the people who are taking the time to read and review. I really appreciate everyone's comments and you keep me excited about writing this. I hope you enjoy this chapter—we got some action with a fair amount of suspense in this one!**

**Let me know what you think!**

**Mistakes are all my own so look at me if you want to blame someone. Next update is out as soon as I can get it finished!**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 10**

Frank let out a weary sigh as he stood up from the uncomfortable chair and walked over to the window to stare out at the view of the Chicago skyline. The sun was almost blinding as it glinted off the windows of the skyscrapers but Frank didn't mind it so much. He was exhausted as he kept vigil over his little brother, not even the numerous cups of coffee were doing anything to perk him up.

Truth was he just felt completely helpless. He knew he should be out there, trying to find who did this to Joe but it was hard when he had no idea who to go after. Frank didn't like seeing his brother like this, looking broken and fragile. It just wasn't Joe—Joe had never been one to lie still for more than two minutes.

The doctors didn't seem to be able to tell him anything besides Joe would wake up when he was ready to wake up. Well, Frank didn't like that one bit. If he could shake his brother awake like he used to when they were kids and not hurt him any further, then he would do it. Instead, he had to stay here and have patience.

Which was just something Frank didn't have a whole lot of right now.

Besides that, he was wondering how it was going between Nancy and the doctor. He hoped that Sophie Dawson would be able to give Nancy some peace of mind, assuring her that Dominic Shepard was truly dead. He wanted his wife to have some of the stress alleviated from her shoulders. She was already bothered enough about the murders, since the victims looked like her. Then add Barry Campbell to the mix and it was a wonder Nancy hadn't found the nearest building and launched herself off.

Sighing, Frank pushed away from the window and made his way back to the uncomfortable vinyl chair. Falling into it, he leaned forward and looked at his brother's prone form.

"Come on, Joe…just wake up for me already, huh?" Frank asked, softly. "If this is just some act to get me to have some emo moment with you at your bedside, it worked, okay?"

Joe remained stubbornly unresponsive.

A smile quirked at Frank's lips. "You know, I think you can really hear me. You're just enjoying this too much to make me stop. I would do the same thing if I was in your shoes, just so you know."

"Let's hope not," a female voice spoke up from behind him. "I don't think I could take another one of you Hardy's in the hospital."

Frank turned his head to see Nancy standing in the doorway, watching them with a sad smile on her face. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough to see you've been watching one too many sappy movies," she answered. "Joe would never let you live it down, you know."

"You're going to tell him, aren't you?"

"Definitely. It's too good material to waste." Nancy stepped further into the room and stopped behind Frank. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she gave them a gentle squeeze. "Still no change?"

Frank let out a weary sigh as he reached back and placed one of his hands over hers. "Nothing—which I guess means it's good news. At least, that's what his doctor keeps telling me."

"His body just has to take time to heal."

Frank nodded. "So, how did it go with Sophie?"

Nancy grabbed the other chair and pulled it close to him before sitting down, placing her bag on the floor. "It went well. She said she remembered Dom from coming into the emergency room a few years ago. She said he was pretty much dead when he came in the doors."

"So, there's no way he could be alive?"

"That seems to be the general consensus. She said she did everything she could but it just wasn't enough."

"Why don't you seem more enthusiastic about it? I thought this would be great news."

"It is, don't get me wrong. I—" Nancy hesitated. "I don't know. I guess I'm just letting my head play with me."

"How do you mean?"

"Everything just seems a little too coincidental for me. You know I don't believe in that, not even for a second."

"We've been sort of engrained not to believe that."

"Right. So what do I do to finally convince myself?" Nancy asked. "Demand that his grave be dug up for me to actually believe it?"

"That's going a bit too far, don't you think?" Frank countered. "Besides, I thought he was cremated."

"Again, completely coincidental—or convenient. However you want to look at it." Sighing, Nancy stood up. "I'm tired of thinking about it. I'm gonna head back to the office, see if I can get any work done."

"I'm going to stick around here for a little while longer," Frank said. "Maybe I'll get lucky and Joe will wake up."

Nancy leaned down to give him a kiss. "Let me know if he wakes up."

"I will," Frank said before returning her kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Frank waited until the door was closed before he leaned back in his seat, sighing heavily.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Stepping out of the elevators and into the parking garage, Nancy was seriously considering skipping the office and heading straight to the apartment she shared with Frank. She felt utterly exhausted and she was sure it had something to do with the tennis match that kept going on in her head. She just couldn't stop thinking about the murders and when she wasn't thinking about that, her mind immediately went to Joe.

What she really wanted was to get away from it all. Maybe she and Frank could go on a vacation somewhere when this was all over. It's not like they didn't deserve it—all they did was work and they needed a break. Then again, every time they tried to go on a vacation, it turned into a case so maybe that wasn't the best idea, after all.

Reaching into her bag, she was just pulling out her keys when she thought she heard the scrape of a shoe behind her. Stopping, she allowed her trained eyes to roam around the garage, keeping herself attuned to any unwanted visitors. The young reporter let out a relieved sigh when she spied a couple walking towards the bank of elevators.

_You are letting your head play with you, Nancy._

Chuckling shakily, she continued on towards her car. Using her remote, she unlocked the car doors but before she could open the door, a sudden weight slammed into her, shoving her against the compact.

Letting out a grunt of pain, adrenaline took over as she struggled against the person holding her there. Her assailant's grip didn't lessen; instead, it seemed to get tighter. Refusing to stand there and become a victim, Nancy took a deep breath, intent on getting someone's attention. There had to someone in the parking garage that could help her.

Just as she was about to let out an ear-piercing scream, a gloved hand covered her mouth, smothering any sound she could make.

"You really should learn to leave well enough, Nancy," a voice whispered fiercely into her ear. She wasn't even sure if it was a man or a woman.

Kicking up one of her legs, Nancy somehow managed to get it up to her car. Kicking back, she used her body's momentum to push her attacker back into the car beside hers, causing the alarm to go off. _Good! Maybe I got someone's attention!_ Glancing quickly into her window, Nancy wasn't surprised to see a mask covered the person's face.

Unfortunately, that was all she had a chance to see before her assailant pushed her forward into her car once more. Letting go of her waist, he grabbed a handful of her hair and shoved her head against the frame of the car. Nancy instantly saw stars and fought to stay conscious as her keys were jerked out of her hand and she was dragged towards the back of her car.

Her murky brain screamed at her to fight but it was no use as she watched through sluggish eyes as her trunk opened up. She barely even put up a fight as she was hastily tossed inside. Before it slammed shut, she could have sworn she heard her cell phone ringing.

_Sorry, I can't come to the phone right now,_ Nancy thought as her eyes drifted shut. _Please leave a message and I'll return your call._

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joe Hardy realized an interesting fact as he lay in the hospital bed.

Pain medicine was a wonderful thing—an absolutely wonderful thing. He was blissfully unaware of anything around him though he could have sworn he heard his brother's voice talking to someone else. And even though Joe wanted to let Frank know he was okay for the most part, he was perfectly content in his drug-induced sleep.

The youngest Hardy knew as soon as he woke up, reality would hit him. He would have to face the fact that he was nearly killed by a psycho killer who wanted nothing more than to play a game with them. He knew he would have to let Nancy know that her biggest nightmare was now in fact, a reality.

Dominic Shepard was back and he was deadlier than ever.

Joe had no doubt in his mind that Shepard wouldn't stop at nothing to get to Nancy. And he had to admit that the killer had been smart to dispatch him as soon as he could. It took one wall away from Nancy and left her that much more vulnerable. Not that she couldn't take care of herself; quite the opposite. Joe didn't know too many women who could literally kick some real ass but his sister-in-law was definitely one of them.

Joe didn't know if he could ever forget the cold, gleeful glint in Shepard's eyes as he looked Joe before stabbing him. There was no remorse in those eyes and Joe knew the man was doing it just to show him who was superior. Shepard simply had nothing to lose at this point and he pretty much had free reign since he was dead, for all intents and purposes.

Well, Joe wasn't going to let him slide by that easily. He was going to tell Frank and Nancy and they were going to come up with a plan to not only keep themselves safe, but the rest of Chicago as well. Knowing Shepard's temperament, if he couldn't have Nancy, then he would go after other innocent victims as well.

Joe wasn't going to have that blood on his hands.

Slowly lifting his lids, he immediately shut them against the sudden brightness in the room.

_Friggin' sunlight…_

Turning his head slightly away from the window, he tried opening them again, this time to a much more desirable result. Very little light greeted him as he blinked back the blurriness and took in his surroundings around him.

Obviously, he was in the hospital if the sterile white walls and constant beeping of the heart monitor was any indication. An IV drip was connected to his left hand and the pulse oximeter covered his index finger. He spied his brother lounging in a chair next to his bed, snoring softly.

Joe let out a groan, knowing his sibling would respond immediately to the sound. Joe wasn't disappointed when Frank shot out of the chair, nearly stumbling to the floor in the process. If it wouldn't hurt so much, Joe would have let out a laugh.

"Joe! You're awake!" Frank said, his voice a mixture of shock and happiness. "How do you feel?"

"Like I got into a wreck and then some psycho took a knife to my gut," Joe groaned, cracking a small smile.

Frank fixed his brother with a stern look. "That's not funny."

"Sure it was. So, have you been keeping vigil the entire time?"

"No."

"Liar," Joe muttered. "You look like crap."

"You look any better?"

"At least I have a valid excuse."

Frank sighed. "So, you remember what happened to you?"

Joe snorted and then winced as a wave of pain washed over him. "I don't have amnesia, Frank. I have a stab wound and a broken arm."

"Did you see who did it?" Frank asked, anxiously.

Joe swallowed hard as he looked past Frank. "Where's Nancy? I thought I heard her voice earlier."

"She went back to the office," Frank answered. "You heard us talking?"

"Not exactly—I heard your voices but I couldn't make out anything that was being said."

"She talked to a doctor that worked on Shepard back in River Heights after he was shot. She told Nancy that he was dead."

Joe shook his head as he tried to push himself up only to fall back to the bed in exhaustion. "You have to get to Nancy, Frank."

"What? Why?"

"Because the doctor wasn't exactly telling the truth."

"What are you talking about, Joe?"

Joe looked up at his older brother. "You want to know who ran me off the road and stabbed me? Look no further than Dominic Shepard."

Frank looked down at Joe in utter disbelief. "I think you may have hit your head, bro. Shepard is dead."

"Frank, I'm not stupid, okay? You can sit here and keep arguing with me about him being dead or not or you can call your wife and make sure she's okay."

Frank studied Joe for a moment longer and Joe really hoped he was getting through to his stubborn sibling. Finally, the older Hardy pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was calling Nancy.

"She's not answering," Frank said, frowning at Joe. He dialed another number and held the phone to his ear. "Hey, Leslie…did Nancy make it in yet? She's not there? No…no message…Thanks."

"She hasn't made it to the office?"

"No," Frank answered. "Maybe she went back to the apartment." Frank dialed their number at the apartment but still received no answer. "Something's wrong."

"Maybe she has her phone on silent or something," Joe offered helpfully.

"Do you really believe that?"

Joe shook his head.

Frank shoved his phone back in his pocket. "I'm going to see if she's still around the hospital. Maybe she's talking to that doctor again."

Joe watched as his brother practically sprinted out of the room, leaving him alone. Joe truly hoped their fears weren't about to be realized.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

_This cannot be happening! Tell me this is all just a nightmare!_ Frank silently begged as he hurried to the elevators. He had to believe that Nancy was safe, that it was all just an overreaction on his and Joe's part. But the little voice in the back of his head wasn't willing to let him off the hook so easily.

_It's your fault…you shouldn't have let her go off alone. You knew the risk…_

"She's a grown woman—she can take care of herself," Frank muttered to himself, earning a few passing glances in return. "Besides, I would never hear the end of it if I constantly insisted on tagging along with her."

_It's different now._

"Yeah, you don't have to keep reminding me of that."

Pressing the button to the elevator, Frank didn't have to wait long before the doors opened. Rushing inside, he barely glanced at the woman in the car with him. He pressed the button for the parking garage and tapped his foot impatiently as it seemed to take forever for the elevator to reach its destination.

"Are you okay?" the woman asked.

"I just have something on my mind," Frank answered brusquely. He turned to look at his companion and his eyes alighted on the badge she was wearing. "My wife just spoke with you."

Sophie Dawson lifted her brows in confusion. "You're going to have to be a little more specific for me there, buddy."

"Nancy Drew—you haven't seen her again since you talked to her, have you?"

"No…I've been working."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," Frank muttered as the elevators finally opened.

"Is everything alright?"

Frank didn't answer her as he rushed into the parking garage, yanking out his cell phone at the same time. He dialed Nancy's number, hoping for an answer this time and that all his panicking was for nothing. For once in his life, he wanted to be overreacting.

But the faint sound of a phone ringing in the distance only ratcheted up his fears even more. Sprinting to the sound, he skidded to a stop when he came to Nancy's car, spying her purse, along with its contents scattered across the concrete. And there lying a couple of feet away from her purse was her ringing phone.

"Oh, God, no," he whispered breathlessly. _That son of a bitch has her and I did nothing to protect her! _

Frank was just about to dial the police when a faint pounding caught his attention. Straining his ears for the sound, he could have sworn it was coming from the trunk of Nancy's car. Picking up the keys from the ground, Frank cautiously made his way to the back of the compact, his senses in high alert.

"Somebody, help me!" Nancy's muffled voice reached his ears. "Let me out of here!"

The young man wasted no time in opening the lid of the trunk, his heart threatening to leap from his throat when he saw his wife looking back at him with wide blue eyes. Reaching in, he gingerly helped her out of the small compartment, not missing the large purplish-blue lump on her forehead and the way she groaned in pain from the sudden brightness.

"Nancy! Are you okay?" he demanded, scooping her up into a huge hug as soon as he had her out.

Nancy nodded shakily as she pushed away from him, her eyes scanning the vast parking area. "Did you see him?"

"See who?" Frank asked gently. "Nancy, what happened?"

Nancy focused her eyes on him as she held a hand up to her head. "I was coming out to my car when someone jumped me from behind."

"You didn't see who it was?"

Nancy shook her head. "No, they were wearing a ski mask. I couldn't even tell you if it was a man or a woman."

"Did they say anything to you?"

Nancy thought for a second before nodding. "They said I should have stayed out of it. I'm not exactly sure what they planned. I knocked whoever it was into the next car and I think the alarm scared them away."

"I didn't see anyone when I came out here."

"How did you find me?"

"I called everywhere, searching for you but I either couldn't get an answer or no one knew where you were," Frank explained. "I even talked to that doctor you spoke with earlier but she said she hadn't seen you since your meeting."

Nancy frowned in confusion. "Why were you looking for me?"

"Joe woke up—"

"He did?"

"Yeah, and he told me who attacked him, Nan." Frank's lips were set into a grim line. "It's not good."

"Who was it?"

"He swears up and down that it was Dominic Shepard."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sophie Dawson was pleased with herself as she opened the door to her apartment later that night. Overall, it had been a really good day. She'd lied to that nosy Nancy Drew about Dom and on top of that, she'd gotten to give her a piece of her mind when she'd shoved the woman into the trunk of her own car.

She was disappointed that she hadn't gotten to do more to her. More than anything, Sophie wanted to take her knife and gut the little bitch. She didn't like anyone coming after Dom, even if he could be a bastard at times. Nancy needed to realize that Sophie had set up her life around Dom and she would do anything to protect the man that she loved.

She wasn't about to let some past obsession put a wedge between the two of them. Not over her dead body.

Putting down her purse, she reached over to turn on the lights, surprised to find them off. "Babe, are you home?"

Receiving no answer, she walked into the living room and her heart nearly leaped out of her chest at the figure sitting quietly in the recliner. "Jeez, you scared the crap out of me, Dominic!"

Dom smiled apologetically. "Sorry—I was just sitting in here thinking."

Sophie walked over to him and planted a kiss on his lips. "What were you thinking about?"

"It's nothing important. How was your day?"

"Busy," Sophie replied before frowning. "Are you okay? You never ask how my day was."

"How did it go with Nancy?" Dom queried, ignoring her.

"It went fine. I practically had her eating out of the palm of my hand with the story I was feeding her."

"And all you did was talk to her?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Sophie felt a chill go through her as Dom looked up at her with his cold, icy blue eyes. There was something brewing there; she was as sure as she could be. His eyes no longer held the love or amusement they usually had for her. A change had come over him and she was suddenly really, truly scared.

"I have it on good authority that something else happened today."

Sophie turned her head away and walked towards the bedroom. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She wasn't surprised to hear his footsteps behind her. "Don't play me, Soph. I don't like being played the fool."

"I honestly have no idea what you're wanting me to say, Dom." Sophie shoved off her shoes and tossed them into the closet. When she turned around, she saw that he was caressing his favorite knife and the knot once again formed in her chest.

"You know, I was really hoping you would just tell me the truth," Dom replied softly. "I actually loved you and cared for you, which is going to make this so much harder."

"What are you talking about?" Sophie swallowed hard as she took a step away from him.

"I want to give you another chance." Dom looked her straight in the eyes, his gaze unwavering. "Did something else happen? In particular, did something happen in the parking garage with Nancy?"

Sophie stumbled on a pile of clothes on the floor but quickly regained her balance as she kept her eyes on the man in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied the innocent pink rose lying on the night stand.

_Oh, God!_

"Dom, you can't do this," she pleaded. "Not after everything we've been through."

"I gave you specific instructions that she was not to be touched. You were only to speak to her and that was it." Dom took another step towards her. "What exactly were you planning on doing to her?"

"N-nothing," she stammered. "I just wanted to scare her. She was coming between us."

Dom shook his head, smiling. "There never was an "us" she could come between, quite the contrary. If anything, I've allowed you to come between Nancy and I and I think it's time that I rectify that little problem."

"Dom, please," Sophie whispered fearfully as she was stopped by the wall. "You don't mean that."

"But I do," Dom said. "I warned you about what would happen if you tried to go against me."

"But I wasn't! I was doing it for us! I was trying to protect you!"

Dom tilted his head to look at her. "Who said I needed you to protect me?"

Sophie never had time to fully comprehend what was happening as she felt the blade thrust into her skin and into her heart. She barely felt the sensation of his lips against hers as he silenced any scream she may have made.

What she did comprehend was the taste of her own blood in her mouth before she fell to the ground, dead.


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks again for all the reviews, guys! **

**Enjoy!**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 11**

To say that Nancy Drew didn't have the best night would be the understatement of the decade. If it hadn't been for the two and a half cups of coffee currently running through her veins, she was pretty sure that she would have face planted on the ground already. She was exhausted, both mentally and physically, and what she really wanted to was to plant herself in her bed and not get up for a good day or so.

But she knew that wasn't about to happen anytime soon. In fact, she was pretty sure sleep would elude her until they caught Dominic Shepard and put him either behind bars and firmly six feet under the ground. At this point, she wasn't entirely picky about where he ended up. What she was sure of was that she wanted him out of her life, once and for all.

As soon as Frank had found her in the trunk of her car and delivered the blow of Dom being back, Nancy had marched straight up to Joe's hospital room, with Frank on her heels. She'd only taken a brief moment to be relieved that her brother-in-law was okay before tearing into him, demanding to know why he would say something so cruel. She'd argued any which way she could, denied with all that she had inside of her and it always came down to the same result—Dom was back in their lives, whether they liked it or not.

Nancy saw the remorse in Joe's eyes as he kept telling her that it was true. She knew how painful it was for him to say those words to her. It wasn't that Nancy didn't trust the younger Hardy completely—there were two people she trusted with her life more than anyone else and their last name ended with Hardy.

She didn't remember much after that. She'd vaguely heard the doctor come in and tell Joe he was making a remarkable recovery and if he kept with it, he could leave in a couple of days or so. She barely felt Frank's hand on her back as he led her to the parking garage and drove back to their apartment. The only emotion she could positively identify was numbness and it seeped through every pore of her skin, every bone in her body.

Rubbing a hand over her face, Nancy glanced blearily at the clock hanging above the sink—it was only five in the morning. The last time she'd glanced at the timepiece had been at three. And though sleep beckoned her, she refused to give in to it. She couldn't replay that nightmare over and over in her head for fear that she might actually crack. She still had no idea who'd attacked her in the parking garage and it chilled her to know that it could have possibly been Dom, that she could have let her guard down and allowed him to get that close to her once again.

Instead, she sat at the bar in the kitchen, allowing questions to run rampant in her head. Why did Sophie Dawson tell her that Dom was dead when he truly wasn't? Could he have fooled the doctor? Could she have been lying to Nancy? And if so, why in the world would someone as respectful as a doctor agree to cover up for a murderer? Was Dom duping Sophie? Was Sophie just his latest victim?

No matter how many times Nancy asked those questions, the answers continued to dodge her. The only way she was truly going to get some answers would be if she talked to the doctor again. It just irked the young reporter that she allowed Sophie to dupe her—Nancy had always prided herself in being able to read people. Was she starting to get rusty? Or was Sophie just better at putting on a believable act?

Nancy groaned as a headache began to pound behind her eyes. This wasn't getting her anywhere—she felt like she was only banging her head against the wall left and right.

Pushing away from the bar, she walked over to the cabinets and opened the one above the coffee pot. Reaching in for the ibuprofen, she took out two of them and popped them in her mouth, swallowing the brown pills down with a glass of water. Rinsing out the glass, she put it in the drainer before resting her hands on the counter.

All of this had to end soon.

It just had to.

"Nan?"

Nancy closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. "I'm okay, Frank."

"How long?"

Nancy knew exactly what Frank was asking the question in reference to. "Maybe an hour or two, tops. I just couldn't close my eyes."

"You have to sleep, Nancy."

"I _need_ to be able to sleep, Frank." Nancy finally turned around to look at her husband who was dressed in a tee and a pair of boxers. His hair was sticking up in different directions and for a fleeting moment, a smile graced her lips. But she quickly sobered up. "I can't."

Frank said nothing as he walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her close. Nancy allowed herself to be comforted, not caring that it made her look weak. She would take that right now—she wanted Frank's strength to ground her. She wanted his love to embrace her and take away all the horror that was becoming her life.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered, pressing a kiss into her hair. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you."

Nancy held onto him tighter, hoping that what he said was true. "You promise?"

"With all my heart."

The titian-haired woman nodded as a tear trailed down her cheek. "I believe you, Frank." Pulling away from him a little bit, she frowned. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

Frank shook his head. "No—your phone did."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine…I didn't get to it in time so I think you have a voicemail," Frank said, handing the tiny cell phone to her.

Nancy looked at the screen and saw the voicemail icon at the top. Pressing *86 into the keypad, she listened as the recorded voice told her to enter her password. Following the directions, she waited for the message to play.

"_Hey, Nancy," _came John Snyder's voice on the other end. _"Listen, I know you're probably not going to like this but I just got a call from our police informant. He told me there's been another body. 134 East Hogan Street, Apartment 23. I assumed you would want first crack at it. Call me if you would rather let someone else handle it."_

Nancy sighed as she disconnected the call. This was certainly not the way she wanted to begin her morning. For once, she wanted to greet the day without having to worry about murders, robberies, and other depressing news.

_You kind of live in the wrong city then, don't you?_

"What is it?" Frank asked, watching her intently.

"They found another body," Nancy replied. "I guess it was wishful thinking hoping that Dom would just pack up and leave, huh?"

"You want me to come with you? It's not like I have anything better to do." Frank grinned. "Besides, now that Joe's awake, I really don't want to spend the entire day in the hospital room with him. You know how annoying he can be when he's conscious."

Nancy chuckled. "Is that really a way to be talking about your little brother considering he almost managed to get himself killed?"

Frank shrugged. "He's not around to defend himself right now, so yeah."

"You don't have to go with me," Nancy said. "I'm sure you have plenty of things you can do at the office."

Frank took one of her hands in his and gave it a firm, but gentle squeeze. "I actually wasn't giving you the option. I'm coming."

Nancy didn't argue it one way or the other. While she always considered herself fiercely independent, she wasn't about the let her pride get in the way. If Frank being near her at all times made it more difficult for Dom to get to her then she sure as hell was going to use him, no matter how weak and pathetic it made her look.

Weakness was better than lying dead in some ditch any day of the week in her book.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Frank honestly didn't know how much more he could possibly take. In the last thirty-six hours or so he'd had to deal with his brother almost dying, Nancy being attacked, and finding out that Dominic Shepard was still alive and intent on getting his hands on his wife. It was times like this that he wished there was a button he could push and make everything right, make everything normal.

But then again, nothing in their lives could be that easy. It hadn't been since they were teenagers.

Frank just couldn't stand to see Nancy suffer anymore. He knew she was putting up a front for him, pretending that everything was going to be okay but Frank could see right through it. He knew her better than she knew herself on most days and vice versa. It was that kind of synergy that made them work so well.

He didn't share his concern with Nancy as they drove to the address that John had given her. Frank sensed that she knew where he stood with everything and he wasn't about to add on to her stress. If given the chance, Nancy would allow herself to crumble under the pressure but Frank wasn't about to let that happen. He wasn't about to let her fall.

Frank was going to be there to catch her every time she fell.

It wasn't hard to miss the apartment building they were seeking, considering the cop cars lined up in front of the modern brick structure. Getting out of the car, they headed up the stairs, Nancy flashing her press badge at the deputy stationed there. Giving them a nod, the young rookie allowed them to go inside the building.

Taking the stairs to the second level, they slowly made their way to the opened doorway. Frank allowed Nancy to take the lead as she walked forward to talk to one of the detectives assigned to the case.

"Hey, Doug," Nancy said as way of greeting.

The young detective with chiseled features and blond, wavy hair turned to look at her, a knowing smile on his face. "Nancy Drew…I was taking bets on when you would show up."

Nancy smiled. "Did you win?"

Doug glanced down at his watch and frowned. "I just missed it—Barney called it right." He then looked up at Frank and held out a hand. "It's good to see you, Hardy. How's your brother doing?"

"Much better now," Frank answered. "The doctor thinks he could get out in the next day or so."

"That's good to hear."

Nancy nodded to the group of people gathered near the bedroom as she pulled out her small notepad from her purse. "What happened?"

"A woman was murdered last night—same m.o. as the others."

"Do you have a name?"

Doug looked down at his own notepad and nodded. "It was a doctor from the hospital—Sophie Dawson."

Nancy dropped her notepad in shock as she exchanged a look with Frank, the older Hardy not missing the fear in her eyes. Doug reached down to pick up the tablet, handing it back to Nancy as he frowned in confusion.

"That name mean something to the two of you?"

"I…um…I talked to her yesterday about an old patient of hers."

"Really?"

"You're sure she was the same as the others?"

"Why were you talking to her about one of her patients?" Doug asked, not willing to be diverted. "I thought they had that whole doctor-patient confidentiality thing going on."

"I was just getting some basic facts for a story I'm working on." Nancy fixed the detective with a stern look. "Are you sure she was the same as the others?"

Doug reached back and absently scratched the back of his neck. "Well, that's the really weird thing—it was made to look that way. But it all just seems a little weird."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we may have actually put an end to all the murders now."

Frank shook his head. "I'm still confused."

"I'm talking about Dawson—she was behind them all along or that's what the evidence is pointing to anyway. She's got pictures of all the vics hanging on the wall in her closet, trophies from the victims, and she may have been killed by the same weapon that was used in all the murders. We won't know that for sure until forensics can tell us something."

"So, you're thinking she may have killed herself?"

"It's looking that way right now," Doug said with a shrug. "Maybe she'd made a mistake and knew it was only a matter of time before we caught up to her. Maybe the guilt got to her. Whatever the hell it is, I'm definitely not going to look a gift horse in the mouth."

"You don't think it's just a little convenient?" Nancy asked.

"Like I said, I don't really care right now. What I do care about is that Chicago can rest easy now that a killer is off the streets and that should make you happy, too." Before Nancy or Frank could say anything, one of the officers beckoned to Doug. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be sure to give you more for your story by the end of the day."

"Frank, we both know that it isn't over yet," Nancy whispered as soon as Doug was out of earshot. "He's still out there—all the police are going to do is give this city a false sense of hope."

Frank shrugged a shoulder as he ushered Nancy out of the apartment. "There's nothing we can really do, Nan. If we tell them a supposedly dead man is behind all the murders, they'll lock the both of us in the loony bin."

"So, we just sit around and do nothing?"

"What if Sophie was in on it?" Frank countered. "What if she was working with Shepard all along? If that's the case, then maybe the murders _will_ come to a stop."

Nancy huffed. "Sure they will, at least until they find me lying dead in _my _apartment."

Frank whirled himself around to face Nancy, halting her on the staircase. "Nancy, don't you dare start talking like that."

"But—"

"I am not going to stand around and allow you to do this to yourself, do you understand me?" Frank continued fiercely, cutting her off. "I swore to you that I wasn't going to let that bastard anywhere near you and it's a promise that I intend to keep. So you can drop this defeatist attitude that you have going on right now."

"Frank…"

"No—you are the strongest woman that I know. Hell, it's one of the things that drew me to you in the first place," Frank went on. "If you're so dead set on insisting that he's going to kill you, we'll just go drop you off at his feet now. Save him some trouble."

Nancy actually looked shock. "You don't mean that."

"No, I don't," Frank admitted. "So stop it."

Frank wasn't bothered by the look on Nancy's face. If he scared her, then so be it. But he refused to listen to her talk this way anymore and he would use whatever means necessary if it got her back to her normal self. The Nancy he knew would want to face any problem head-on, no matter what the consequences were at the end. And while he didn't intend to let Dom get his hands on her, they also weren't going to wait around and sit scared.

"I'm sorry," Nancy finally said softly after a few moments of silence. "You're right."

"Are you ready to deal with this our way now?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"We don't hide from him—we make our presence known. We let Shepard know that we're not backing down and let him know he's not going to get away with anything that he's done this time."

Nancy smiled. "I think I can go along with that."

"Good."

Stepping out of the way, Frank allowed Nancy to continue her way down the stairs, following closely behind her. Whatever good mood they may have been in quickly diminished when they spotted a familiar figure waiting in the lobby.

"Nancy—John told me you would be here," Barry Campbell said, a satisfied grin on his face.

"What the hell do you want, Campbell?" Frank bit out as he ushered Nancy out the door and towards their car.

Barry stayed on their heels. "As I understand it, Nancy's had some excitement the past twenty-four hours. I thought it would be a great addition to the book—how after all these years, there's still never a dull moment when she's around."

Frank shook his head. "You're no better than the paparazzi that stalk celebrities."

"Wow, Hardy…that was actually kind of cruel," Barry said, his expression sullen. But then he smirked. "I'm not quite that bad—you don't see me chasing an ambulance, do you?"

Nancy sent a pointed look at the ambulance truck that was sitting not ten yards away.

Barry followed her look before holding up his hands in surrender. "That's a total coincidence."

"And you being here is one too, right?"

"Hey, every single time I call your cell, you either refuse to answer to offer up some lame excuse. It's not my fault that I'm having to resort to extreme measures to get you to talk to me." Barry flashed a grin at her. "So, do you want to talk to me about what happened?"

"Go away, Barry," Nancy said before opening the door to the car and sliding into the passenger seat. Before the writer could say anything, she slammed it shut and locked the door to prevent him from opening it.

Frank glared at the other man. "I think she wants you to leave her alone."

"You can't keep her from talking to me."

"Actually, I think I can."

"We have a deal."

"Deals can be broken."

"It's like I told her—she doesn't talk to me, I start embellishing the story with some of my own jewels. I can flush her reputation right down the toilet."

"Are you threatening her, Campbell?" Frank asked, his smile cold. "Because I could have sworn that's what I heard."

"I'm just stating a fact," Barry replied, swallowing hard.

"Well, here's a fact for you: you come anywhere near her again, and I'll make sure you never write another thing again. Understand?" Giving the write one last withering look, Frank walked around the car to the driver's side.

"Looks like I'm not the only one making threats around here, Hardy," Barry said before Frank could get in.

Frank nodded. "The only difference being is that I mean mine."

Sliding into the car, Frank started the engine and pulled out with a squeal of tires. He looked in his rearview mirror with satisfaction as Barry stared after them, his mouth agape.

_You screwed with the wrong person today, Campbell._

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dominic Shepard pulled the brim of his baseball cap lower over his eyes as he watched the scene playing out in front of Sophie's apartment building. So far, he'd been conspicuous sitting by the window in the little diner, having a front row seat to the spectacle he'd made. He also wasn't stupid enough to know his luck would last forever. All it would take was one look from an observant person and everything he'd been working for would slip away from him.

He wasn't about to let that chance to get away from him. After all, he was getting closer and closer to achieving his goal, especially now that he'd eliminated one of the bigger obstacles standing in his way.

While a tiny part of him regretted getting rid of Sophie, he also knew it was something that had to be done. Dom knew she was starting to lose control and that attack on Nancy had simply been the last straw. He couldn't in good faith allow Sophie to get away with her behavior. She'd had to learn her lesson, no matter how much he may have cared for her.

And he did care for her. She had been the only person to stand by his side when no one else would. Then again, he was technically dead so how could he expect anyone else to be in his corner? It was either Sophie or nothing and Dom knew without her, he wouldn't be around to get the chance he was going to get now.

Dom knew Sophie was jealous of Nancy. He saw it on her face every time he'd mentioned Nancy's name. Sophie never did quite understand the feelings he had for Nancy though and no amount of explaining was going to get it through her brain.

So yes, it was better off this way. He was better off without Sophie being in his life any longer.

Taking a sip of his coffee, he looked up as Nancy came out of the apartment building, Frank Hardy and another man on her heels. He didn't recognize the new guy and from Nancy's expression, he could see that she apparently didn't think too highly of him. Dom had to chuckle to himself when he saw the way Frank was restraining himself against the stranger.

_He's like a caged tiger, that one. Just waiting to pounce on the poor man,_ Dom thought. _That's right, Hardy—we all have the killing desire inside, just waiting to come out to the surface and rear its ugly little head._

Not taking his eyes off the trio, Dom watched as Nancy got into her car, slamming the door before the mysterious man could stop her.

_She definitely doesn't like him. I think I may need to step in and intervene for her._

Finishing the last bit of coffee, Dom slammed the cup on the table and threw down a few dollar bills. He opened the door to the diner just as Frank peeled out onto the road, leaving the mysterious man in their wake.

Dom waited until the man started walking down the street, before following closely behind, being careful not to be too obvious. Darting into an alleyway, Dom intended to cut the young man off at the next opening. Sprinting down, he kept to the shadows so he couldn't be seen.

As the man walked past, Dom reached out and grabbed him, shoving him hard against the brick building.

"Dude, what the hell?"

"Who are you?" Dom demanded, shoving him again.

"I should be asking you the same thing," Barry replied. "You want my money, just take it."

Dom smiled, his blue eyes locking into Barry's green ones. "I don't want your money."

"Then what do you want?"

Dom said nothing as he slammed the younger man into the wall, smiling in satisfaction as he heard his head crack against the brick façade. Eyes rolling in the back of his head, the man slumped forward into Dom's arms.

_Don't worry, Nancy, dear. I'll make sure this one doesn't bother you ever again._


	12. Chapter 12

**Wow, guys! Thank you so much for all of the awesome comments! I am so happy that you're enjoying this story. I think I have only a few more chapters to go before I can finally put this puppy to bed. I want to thank you for your continued support and encouragement. I really appreciate it!**

**I'm going to try to get the next chapter up as soon as I can, either by the end of the week or beginning of next week.**

**As always, all mistakes are my own, so blame me if you want. Please let me know what you think, especially you people who just love to hate me and point out everything I am apparently doing wrong.**

**Enjoy!**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 12**

Barry Campbell felt as if his head had been detached from his shoulders and was being used as a tennis ball as he began to come around. _I don't remember signing on for the great tennis showdown between Federer and Roddick. Could someone please just put me out of my misery?_

More than anything, he wanted to hold his head in his hands but he found even that feat impossible. It wasn't because he was barely on the cusp of coherence; instead, he found that his arms were pulled tightly behind his back and something rough was holding his wrists together.

_What the hell? Am I tied up?_

Opening his eyes, Barry blinked past the blurriness until he could finally make out his surroundings and situation. He was currently in some kind of room that smelled musty, almost as if it was underground. In fact, it smelled vaguely of his Aunt Ida's basement from when he was a kid. There was one bare bulb hanging over his head and he could have sworn he heard scraping sounds coming from some part of the room.

"Rats…" he muttered in disgust, praying they stayed away from him.

Looking down at himself, he found that he was sitting in a hardback chair, rope around his chest holding him in place. He tried to move his legs but found out they were tied down as well.

"Don't tell me Hardy actually went through with his threat…"

"So, Frank Hardy isn't as valiant as I gave him credit for," a new voice chuckled from the shadows.

Barry strained to see past the shadows but didn't have any luck. "Who are you?"

"I'm certainly not your saving grace if that's what you're thinking."

A man stepped into the light in front of him and Barry instantly recognized him as the man who attacked him in the alley. There was a calculating smile on the stranger's face, his icy blue eyes holding a mixture of malice and sheer pleasure. Barry had never been scared of many things in his life, but the way the guy was looking at him was sending all kinds of bad signals in his head.

"Tell me…why would Frank Hardy have any reason to threaten you?"

"You didn't answer my question—who are you? Where am I? What do you want from me?"

"Actually, that's now three questions you've asked me," Dom said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Fair enough. I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."

"Fine."

"As for who I am—the name is Dominic Shepard. You're in a nice little abandoned house on the outskirts of town." Dom grabbed a chair and sat down across from him. "As for what I want…well, we'll get to that part in a bit."

Barry frowned. "That name sounds familiar." Then his eyes widened in surprise—Nancy had told him all about this man during one of their sit-downs. "You're supposed to be dead."

Dom flashed a half smile. "What can I say? I got over it."

"How?"

"We don't need to worry about that little detail, Barry."

"How do you know my name?"

Dom shrugged. "Took a peek at your wallet." He then leaned forward in his chair. "You and I have a certain special someone in common—Nancy Drew."

"What does she have to do with this?"

"Oh, she's got everything to do with this," Dom answered, a cruel smile on his face. "Why are you talking to her?"

"You think I'm going to tell you anything, you sick freak?" Barry asked, squirming against the ropes. "She told me all about you, what you did to her."

Dom stood up as he walked to a small, cluttered table. Picking up a notebook that Barry instantly recognized as his, Dom began to browse through the pages. "It seems to me as if you're writing a book about our lovely blonde friend."

"Put that down."

Dom ignored him as he continued to flip through the pages, finally coming to a stop in the middle. "What do you know—she _does_ talk about me. It's rather flattering to know I'm still on her mind after all these years."

"Did you really expect her to forget after what you did to her?"

"No, I didn't," he mumbled as he read through the notes Barry had scribbled. "She doesn't seem to think very highly of me, does she? As a matter of fact, she's really portraying me in a bad kind of light, don't you think?"

Barry didn't say anything. He wished he could work his way out of the ropes but they were refusing to budge. One thing he did know was that he was royally screwed. No way in hell was he about to get out of here alive.

"I'm going to do you a favor, Barry," Dom said, throwing the notebook on the table and walking back over to where the restrained man was sitting.

"What kind of favor?"

"You want to get a first-hand account of what I'm capable of—I'm going to show you," Dom said, grinning. "You could call it fact checking, if it makes you feel any better."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Dom smiled a sick, joyous smile. "You'll be serving as a means to an end. I want Nancy but I know there's no way I'm gonna get her with her guard dog around her every single minute. From what I saw, Frank doesn't seem to like you too much."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I think I do." Dom reached behind his back and pulled out a long serrated hunting knife, caressing the blade lovingly as he looked at Barry. "I may not have heard the conversation, but I think I got the gist of it. Frank wants you to stay away from her. You didn't listen, so he goes after you. I'm sure there has to be a witness or two who will place the two of you together."

"You're insane!" Barry struggled even more against the ropes. He was desperate to get away from this psycho. And while he didn't really like Frank Hardy, the writer knew he also couldn't let Frank go down for something he didn't do. At the very least, he had to get away in order to warn Nancy—he owed that much to her.

"Relax, Barry," Dom said as he walked behind the man and clamped a hand down on his shoulder. "I'm not going to kill you now. I'm saving that for when our special guest arrives."

Barry swallowed down the lump of fear in his throat. "Then what the hell are you going to do?"

Dom chuckled and without warning, he plunged the knife deep into Barry's right thigh. Barry roared in shock, straining against the ropes as waves of pain rushed throughout his body.

"That looks like it hurt," Dom said as he twisted and yanked the knife back out. He looked at the blade that was now covered with Barry's blood and nodded in approval. "I think that should do the trick."

Barry said nothing as he tried to push past the pain. There was nothing he could say at this point to save his own skin. He was going to die, whether it was from slowly bleeding to death or the unpredictable swift swipe of the blade against his throat.

_Crazy son of a bitch!_

Barry didn't even glance up as he heard footsteps move away or the creaking of the stairs as Dom went up. He didn't want to focus on anything but praying to God that there was going to be some way out of this mess. And though it surprised him, he hoped to hell that Nancy Drew would be safe.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You are kidding me!" Joe Hardy said, his blue eyes wide as Nancy and Frank finished telling him about Sophie and her supposed involvement in the murders that had been plaguing the city. "Who in the world would be crazy enough to join forces with Shepard?"

Frank shrugged. "Well, yesterday I would have said no one."

"Do you think she was brainwashed or something?" Joe asked.

Nancy rolled her eyes as she glanced up at the small television hanging on the wall where a science fiction movie was playing. "I think someone's been watching the SyFy channel too much today."

"Hey, there are plenty of cases out there where people fell under another's spell," Joe argued. "They argue those kinds of cases all the time in the courtroom. Of course, it usually lands them right in the loony bin as soon as they open up their mouths…"

"Exactly my point."

"Either way you look at it, Shepard had to have been holding something over Sophie's head to get her to go along with his terror spree," Frank cut in before Nancy and Joe could go at it. "Maybe he was intimidating her somehow or using blackmail."

"Or maybe she was in love with him," Nancy returned.

Both brothers looked at her as if she'd sprouted wings and started doing laps around the hospital room.

"You're joking, right?" Joe asked.

Nancy shrugged. "It's not as farfetched as your brainwashing theory. People do crazy things for love all of the time."

"Yeah, but you're talking as if someone—or something—as vile as Dominic Shepard could be capable of love," Frank said.

"Last time I checked, he was in love," Nancy countered. "He's in love with making our lives a living hell, especially mine."

Joe snorted. "That's different. That's like deranged, in-need-of-a-major-restraining-order love."

"How else would you explain her willingness to go along with his plan?"

"Temporary insanity."

"We don't know for sure that she was even responsible for the murders," Frank piped in. "He could have easily set her up to take the fall, planting all of that evidence."

"Which goes against everything we know about him. Shepard likes to hear about himself; he likes to know that he's scaring the crap out of everyone."

"Joe's right," Nancy said. "Which is something that I never thought I would hear myself say."

Joe smirked at her. "Thanks for that vote of confidence."

Nancy smiled at him before continuing. "I'm not saying she couldn't have been on the whole entire thing. I'm just saying that it was Dom who was calling the shots—he wouldn't have it any other way. And since he's technically dead, no one's going to point the finger at him. He's pretty much sitting exactly like he wants, free to do whatever he wants."

"Do you think he'll strike again?"

"Not until he gets to me—it's what he's been saving up for all along."

"Yeah, well he's going to be sorely disappointed because no way in hell is he going to get that chance," Joe said.

"You plan on hopping out of this hospital bed and tracking him down?" Frank asked.

"Don't think I won't."

"I know you won't," his brother returned. "I'm not going to stand around and let you have a relapse. You're staying here until the doctor says you can go."

"Frank's right, Joe," Nancy chimed in. "Believe me, your brother has that whole knight in shining armor thing down to a science right now. He won't let me out of his sight for a second."

"Complain all you want, but I'm not going anywhere."

"I didn't think you were."

"So what's next on your agenda?" Joe asked.

Frank scratched the back of his neck. "We're not entirely sure. It's not like we can go stalking all over Chicago looking for him. If we do that, we're doing just what he wants."

"And if you sit around and do nothing, you're doing exactly what he wants. The way I see it, you're pretty much screwed, no matter what you do."

"So, we're sitting ducks, just waiting for him to strike," Nancy muttered. "Good to know."

"Has the doctor came in and told you anything yet?" Frank asked, changing the subject.

"He wants to keep me in here for one more night," Joe explained. "He said if everything goes well tonight, I should be able to bust out of here sometime tomorrow."

"That's good news."

"Tell me about it," Joe grumbled. "I honestly don't know how much more hospital food I can take."

"Says the human trash compactor…"

"I'm serious. I think they make it taste bad on purpose to make you think you're not feeling any better. It's a conspiracy."

"I think you're being a tad dramatic there," Nancy said, grinning.

"That's not even the worst part."

"Oh, it gets worse than hospital food?"

"The nurses here aren't even hot," Joe went on. "I mean, with a hospital this big you would think there would be at least one hot nurse around here."

"Oh, there are," Nancy said. "I just told them on my way up here to avoid this room at all costs. I warned them that the patient in here was very handsy."

Joe glared at his sister-in-law.

Frank chuckled. "And on that note, I think we're going to get out of here." He patted his brother on the shoulder. "I'll be around some time tomorrow to bust you out of here."

"Make sure you leave her at home," Joe grumbled, sticking out his bottom lip as he continued to glare at Nancy.

Nancy laughed before kissing him on the forehead. "You know you love me, Joe. You just can't resist me."

"Whatever." Then he sobered up as he grabbed her hand with his good hand. "Be careful, Nan. Let my brother take care of you."

Nancy nodded. "Don't worry."

Joe watched them leave, wanting more than anything to be leaving with them. He knew he probably couldn't offer much in the way of help, but he'd feel a whole lot better if he was there with them. One thing he did know though—he seriously wanted to make Shepard pay for everything he'd done, once and for all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dom wiped the hilt of the blade with the bottom of his shirt, making sure there was no trace of his fingerprints on the weapon. After all, his plan wouldn't entirely work in his favor is he screwed it up with his own evidence left behind. Everything had to be perfect to ensure that Frank Hardy was out of the way. Dom had to have that time alone with Nancy and there was no way he was going to get that with her _husband_ hanging around.

He was still repulsed every time he thought of Hardy as her husband. It wasn't supposed to be that way. There wasn't supposed to be anyone out there for her, except for him. He just didn't understand why she couldn't get that.

Well, she'd learn soon enough. He was going to make sure she never left him again. They were going to be together, once and for all.

Stepping out of Barry's rental car, Dom threw the knife on the floorboard, knowing it wouldn't take long for the police to find it. He'd driven the car to a stretch of country road on the outskirts of town. No way was he going back to the city now. While there was no evidence directly linking Frank to Barry, Dom knew all it would require was a whisper in their ears.

And he was about to provide that little whisper.

Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed 911.

"_Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?"_

Dom smiled.

_Showtime._

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So, what do you want for lunch?" Nancy asked as she and Frank stepped into their apartment. She threw her purse on the chair by the door before heading into the kitchen. "I think we still have some Chinese takeout from last night."

Frank grimaced. "I don't think I can take any leftovers right now. Just throw one of the pizzas into the oven."

Nancy smiled as she opened the freezer and pulled out a pepperoni pizza. Reaching into the cabinet near the stove, she grabbed the pizza pan before opening the box and taking out the frozen pizza. Placing it on the pan, she put it into the oven and set it to the appropriate temperature.

After that was finished, she grabbed two glasses from the dish rack and fixed her and Frank a soda each. Walking back into the living room, she sat down beside him on the sofa and handed him his drink. She took a long sip of her drink before letting out a sigh.

"What's wrong?" Frank asked.

"I'm just beat," she answered. "I'm ready for this to be over and for things to get back to normal."

Frank snorted. "Since when have we ever done anything that's even close to normal?"

"Very true." She reached over to take his hand. "I was thinking, when things settle down a little bit, we should really get away from here."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Not really sure. I was thinking the Gulf Coast could be nice or maybe the mountains. Just somewhere that isn't here."

Frank nodded. "I could go along with that."

"I just want to go somewhere that no one knows where we are, escape from it all."

"We should do that, then."

"And no talking ourselves out of it this time," Nancy said, glancing over at him. "Every time we talk about taking a trip, we always find a way to talk ourselves out of it."

"You're not getting any arguments out of me. I've been waiting for you to agree to a vacation for a long time."

"What are we going to do about Joe?"

"We could always take him with us."

"Or we could send him back to New York," Nancy said with a grin.

"I'll let you break that news to him," Frank replied with his own smile. "Though I'm sure Mom and Aunt Gertrude would love to mother hen him right now. I'm surprised I was able to talk them out of coming here."

Before Nancy could say anything, there was a knock at the door. "Who in the world could that be?"

"I'll go see." Frank put his glass on the coffee table and walked to the door. Nancy leaned back against the cushions and closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment respite. Her nirvana was quickly brought to a crashing halt when she heard Frank's incredulous voice.

"What in the world are you talking about?"

Nancy jumped off the couch and went down the short hallway where Frank was standing in front of the door, along with Detective Doug Jensen and a deputy. "Doug, what's going on?" Nancy asked, addressing the detective.

Frank turned around and answered her instead. "He's trying to arrest me."

"_What?"_

Doug glanced at the hallway where a neighbor was walking by, casting a curious glance their way. "Maybe we should come inside and talk about this."

"I think that's a great idea." Frank stepped back from the doorway to allow the two men to come into the apartment.

Nancy barely waited for the door to close before she launched into Doug. "Why are you arresting Frank?"

Doug ignored her and turned his attention to the dark-haired Hardy. "What is your relationship to Barry Campbell?"

"I barely know the man. He's been following Nancy around, trying to get information for a book he's writing about her," Frank explained. "Why?"

"Did you get along with him?"

"He's not someone I would put on my Christmas list, if that's what you're getting at."

Nancy was beginning to get very frustrated. She felt like Doug was doing nothing but dodging their questions and she really wanted answers. "Doug, would you please tell us what this is about?"

"Where have you been since you left Sophie Dawson's apartment this morning?" Doug asked, continuing to ignore her.

"We grabbed some breakfast at Cliff's Diner, near the hospital."

"And then what?"

"We went to the hospital to visit with my brother."

"How long were you there?"

"Maybe an hour or so."

Nancy was really starting to lose her patience. If she was a three-year-old child, she would have begun stamping her feet to get their attention. "Would you stop with all the questions and tell us what in the world is going on here?"

Doug sighed as he finally turned his attention to Nancy. "I'm afraid we're going to have to arrest Frank."

"You said that when you came in. Will you tell us what for?"

"We received a tip about an abandoned car out by Turner's Farm. We found blood at the scene along with a knife. When we ran the plates, we found that it was a rental car under Barry Campbell's name."

"Okay, that still doesn't explain what this has to do with Frank."

"Witnesses claim that Mr. Campbell and Frank got into a very heated exchange this morning," Doug explained. "One witness said they heard Frank threatening Mr. Campbell."

Nancy shook her head as she glanced over at her husband. "Frank would never do something like that."

Frank looked away, refusing to meet her glance.

"Did you threaten him, Frank?" Doug asked.

"I warned him to stay away from Nancy. I may have said if he didn't, he wouldn't write another thing again," Frank admitted, guiltily. "But it was something said in the heat of the moment. I didn't really mean I would do anything to the guy."

The detective frowned as he nodded at the deputy. "I'm really sorry about this, guys."

Frank didn't resist as the officer read him his rights and cuffed his hands behind his back. He looked at Nancy apologetically before fear crept onto his face. He turned his eyes to Doug before blurting out, "You can't leave her alone."

"What are you talking about, Frank?"

"Nancy's in danger. You can't leave her unprotected."

"In danger from what?"

"The killer—he's still out there!"

Doug shook his head. "You know as well as I do that we closed that case this morning. Sophie Dawson was behind it all. Nancy will be fine."

"No, please! You have to believe me!"

"Frank, please don't cause a scene. Let's just get to the station so we can sort this all out," Doug said as the officer began to usher Frank towards the door.

"Can I come with you?" Nancy asked.

"It's better if you didn't," Doug answered. "I'm hoping this is nothing more than a misunderstanding and we'll have Frank back in no time. I'll call you to let you know something as soon as I can."

Nancy felt completely helpless as she watched Doug and the officer escort Frank out of the apartment. She wanted to do something for him but she couldn't seem to get her feet to cooperate and chase after them.

Doug was right—this was all just a huge misunderstanding. Frank would never hurt anyone in his life. He simply didn't have it in him.

For the first time in a long time, Nancy felt alone and vulnerable.

Willing her feet to move, she crossed over to the door and threw the deadbolt, sighing in relief when it clicked in place. She wasn't stupid—she knew who was behind all of this. He'd planned it like this from the very beginning.

Nancy was now a sitting duck for Dominic Shepard.

_Come and get me, you bastard. I'm ready to put an end to this once and for all._


	13. Chapter 13

**Okay, so I know I don't usually update this fast but this chapter just came to me and I couldn't stop writing it until it was finished. That being said, I couldn't wait until this weekend to post it so I thought I would treat you guys with a special update tonight.**

**My last update got pushed down so if you didn't check out Chapter 12, you might want to do that before you continue reading this chapter. I really hope you enjoy this one and please let me know what you think. I'm going to try to have another update in a few days, and I'm hoping to wrap up the story within the next couple of weeks or so! Thank you so much to everyone who has hung with me so far!**

**And thanks to my few reviewers! I enjoy reading your comments and they make my day!**

**Enjoy!**

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Chapter 13**

Barry was finding it hard to keep his head lifted, whether it was due to fatigue, blood loss, or a combination of both. He'd stopped fighting long ago, knowing if he kept at it, it would only serve to weaken him more. He was trying his best to conserve what little energy he had left, hoping it would at least give him a shot at a last ditch effort to escape when the time was right.

Not that is was currently looking too promising right now. All he had to show for his efforts were a pair of bloody, raw wrists. He was pretty sure that the ropes hadn't loosened, but tightened with each twist of his wrist. So any way that he looked at it, he was royally screwed. He just had to hope that Dom was unable to go through with his plans and was currently sitting locked behind bars.

Again, not that it would do so well for him. He was more than pretty sure that Dom wouldn't tell anyone he had a helpless man trapped in some old house from a 1930s horror flick.

He didn't want Nancy to have a third go round with the psycho. From everything she'd told him about Dominic Shepard, he was ruthless, cold, and extremely psychotic. Barry knew it was only luck she had managed to get away from Shepard the first two times. He just wasn't sure that she would be successful the third time—the look in Shepard's eyes was crazed and confident, like he knew he was going to get it right this time, which chilled Barry to the bone.

And Barry also knew Shepard wouldn't make it fast with her. He was going to drag it out for as long as he could, torture her slowly before finally delivering the final, fatal blow. What really worried Barry was how he was tied into all of this. The killer had kept him alive for a reason and Barry was afraid to find out what that reason was.

Whatever it was, it couldn't be good—for either him or Nancy.

Sighing deeply, Barry allowed his eyes to close, forcing his brain to stop thinking so much. He just needed to rest…just for a minute…

His eyes snapped open as soon as he heard the door to the basement open, followed by the sound of whistling.

_Oh, God…please just let it be a nightmare._

"You're not looking so good there, Barry," Dom said cheerfully. He stopped in front of the restrained man and leaned down to look at the wound in his leg. "Yeah, that definitely doesn't look good there, buddy."

"Just kill me already," Barry mumbled.

Dom chuckled as he pulled up the chair from earlier in front of Barry. "I told you I didn't want to do that. You are still a very big part of my plan."

Barry didn't say anything.

"I'm surprised you haven't asked how it went with Frank Hardy."

Barry lifted his head and glared at the murderer, which only seemed to amuse him further.

"I don't think I could have planned it any better," Dom continued, as if he was proud to gloat about his latest achievement. "It was absolutely priceless seeing the cops load Hardy into that car. They bought the story I fed them—it was actually a little boring, if you ask me. I was expecting more of a challenge."

"You're insane."

"You know, Barry…it really does hurt my feelings when you say things like that."

"Yeah, I can see how heartbroken you are."

Dom smiled. "So, are you ready to know what happens next?"

"Do I have much of a choice?"

"Not really, considering you're a big part of it." Dom reached into his pocket and pulled out Barry's cell phone. "I need you to call our beautiful little friend up and get her to come to us."

"And why the hell would I do that?"

Dom sighed dramatically. "Because if you don't, then I'm going to have to go get her myself, which will only serve to make me angry. There's no telling what I would have to do to her before we got back here. She is quite the fighter and she wouldn't exactly come quietly with me."

"Good for her."

"It wouldn't be." Scrolling through Barry's phone book on the cellular, Dom stopped at Nancy's number. "All you have to do is to tell her to come here, that you're in trouble."

"Two questions: One, where the hell am I and two, how is she supposed to believe me, considering you just had her husband arrested for my disappearance?"

"To answer your first question, you're at the old Mills place—she'll know how to find it. And to answer your second question, you tell her whatever the hell you have to in order to get her here." He shoved the chair he was sitting in with a violent kick and squatted down in front of Barry, looking him straight in the eyes. "But let's get something straight right now—you try to screw around with me and tell her that I'm here, I kill her as soon as she walks through that door. Do you understand?"

"You think she's not going to know you're waiting for her?"

"She knows I'm out there somewhere but she doesn't know when I'm going to strike," Dom explained. "If I know Nancy, she's going to want to run to your rescue. If there's one thing she can't resist, it's someone in need, no matter how much she may dislike you."

Barry shook his head. "I refuse to be a part of your sick game."

"That's not an option you exactly have, considering you've already played a big part in it." Dom stood up and looked down at his captive. "Think of it this way…you hold Nancy's life in your hands, at least for the time being. How does it feel, knowing you have that power, Barry?"

The young writer swallowed hard, hating himself for what he was being forced to do. He was essentially signing Nancy's death certificate and there was simply no way out of it. No matter what he went along with, she was going to die and it was going to be on his conscience, even if he didn't physically do it himself.

_Please forgive me, Nancy…_

"I'll do it," Barry said softly.

Dom smiled. "I'm glad you could see it my way." Pressing the talk button, Dom held it up against Barry's ear. "Remember what I told you."

"_Hello?"_

"H-hey, Nancy…it's Barry."

"_Barry, where the hell are you? What's going on? The police just arrested Frank, saying that he attacked you."_

"I-I'm at the old Mills place. I'm hurt pretty bad—I can hardly move," Barry said, hating himself for how weak he sounded and how he wished it was only an act.

"_I'll call an ambulance."_

"No! Please, just—I-I don't do well in ambulances. I-It's a long story. Please…just h-help me."

Nancy sighed on the other end of the line. _"It's going to take me a while to get there."_

Barry chuckled ruefully. "N-not like I c-can go anywhere."

"_Just hang in there, Barry. I'll be there as soon as I can."_

"O-okay. Thanks, Nancy."

Dom pulled the phone away from Barry's ear and shut it with a click. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it? You know, if you weren't going to die, I would suggest that you get to Hollywood. You're a pretty convincing actor."

"Bite me."

Dom chuckled as he walked over to the table. "Now, I have one more thing I have to do before our guest arrives. " Picking up a towel, we made his way back over to Barry and stuffed it into his captive's mouth before tying it tightly behind his head. "Just to make sure you don't alert Nancy too soon."

Barry screamed through the gag as Dom turned off the light, enclosing the musty basement in darkness.

"Don't strain yourself there, Barry," Dom called out as he made his way up the stairs. "You wouldn't want to pass out before the real fun begins."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Frank Hardy felt like a caged tiger and it was a feeling he wasn't quite too fond of. He couldn't believe this was happening—it was like a nightmare playing out in his head, made ten times worse by the fact that it meant Nancy was alone.

The whole situation was just ridiculous to him. How in the world could the police actually think he would be capable of hurting anyone? Sure, he'd made a threat against Barry but he never actually intended to go through with it. Like he told Detective Jensen, it was something said in the heat of the moment, nothing more. Nancy brought out a fierce protective streak in him like no one else could.

Frank felt as if he were about to start climbing the walls of the small holding cell. The deputy had dumped him in there about twenty minutes ago and so far, no one was coming around to tell him what was going on. Frank couldn't help but feel trapped, his nerve endings on end. He wanted to get out of there and get back to Nancy, the paranoia that something was going to happen eating away at his mind.

Walking to the door of the cell, Frank grabbed the bars between his hands, peering as far left and right as he could with his limited vision. There was no reason why they couldn't tell him more about what was going on. Maybe they thought he would crack under the pressure and confess to doing something to Barry if they let him stew long enough.

_Well, you have another thing coming if you think you're getting anything out of me,_ Frank thought.

Pushing away from the bars, Frank walked back to the bench and plopped himself down. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and placed his head in his hands. Letting out a huge sigh, he stared at the grimy floor of the cell.

_Where the hell could Barry be? And why did his disappearance seem to be so perfectly timed to the argument they'd had outside of Sophie Dawson's apartment? Was Barry even still alive? If he wasn't, why did they find only his abandoned car and not his body? _

The young Hardy's thoughts were interrupted by the clanging of a heavy door. Jumping up from the bench, Frank hurried to the bars. "Hey, why isn't anyone talking to me?"

"You have a visitor, Hardy!" the deputy from earlier called out as he walked down the small hall, followed by another man.

Frank's heart nearly jumped into his throat when he saw who was standing behind the deputy. The man gave him a cold smile before holding a finger to his lips, telling Frank not to say a word. The deputy unlocked the cell and stepped back to let the man in.

"Just yell when you get finished," the deputy said before closing them in and walking back out of the room.

Frank took a step back. "What the hell are you doing here, Shepard?"

Dom feigned hurt. "You don't seem very happy to see me."

"Considering I'm supposedly looking at a man who is thought to be dead?" Frank bit out. "Oh, and let's not forget the fact that you tried to kill my little brother."

"So, Joe got the message to you? Good." Dom smiled. "And I didn't try to kill your baby brother. Let's not forget, Frank—I'm not exactly a novice at this whole killing thing."

"What do you want?"

"Just thought I would stop by and catch up on some things. It really has been too long."

"You set this whole thing up, didn't you?" Frank queried, his brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You're the reason I'm stuck in here."

"Well, I couldn't very well get to Nancy with you around, now could I?" Dom taunted. "I hear that murder is a very serious charge. You really should learn to control that anger of yours, Frank."

"I didn't do a damn thing."

"No, you didn't," Dom agreed. "But there's enough circumstantial evidence to keep you in here for a while. At least, until I can have my alone time with your very lovely wife."

"You stay the hell away from her," Frank growled through gritted teeth, his fists clinching at his sides. More than anything he wanted to throttle Shepard and it killed him that he couldn't do a thing. What really poured salt into the wound was the fact that the killer was standing there, with a smug look on his face, knowing he had Frank at a disadvantage.

Before Frank could react, Dom launched himself at the detective, shoving him against the wall. Frank momentarily saw stars but quickly pushed them away as he struggled against Dom's grip, desperate to get away or at the very least, try to get a shot in.

"You seem to forget who's in control now," Dom said, his voice rough. "There's nothing you can do to stop me, Hardy. Like it or not, I'm going to get my hands on Nancy and I'm going to make her mine, once and for all."

"Don't."

"It's too late, Hardy. The plan has already been set into motion. She's walking right into my trap as we speak."

Frank closed his eyes tightly, trying to shut out Dom's words. _"It's too late…she's walking right into my trap as we speak."_

"Why are you here? Why come and tell me any of this at all?"

"Because though I may want Nancy all to myself, I'm not above making you suffer, either," Dom explained coldly. "You don't deserve her and she doesn't deserve you. I want to see you completely helpless, Hardy. I want to see the fear in your eyes. I want your mind to play over a million different scenarios as you imagine what I'm doing to her."

Frank felt as if he was punched in the gut, trying desperately to take a breath but finding it impossible. "You son of a bitch…you're not going to get away with this!"

Dom chuckled as he let go of Frank and stepped back. "You and I both know that I will. After all, who's going to believe you, Hardy? I'm a dead man." Stepping back to the door, keeping his eyes on Frank the entire time, he yelled, "Guard!"

"Don't do this, Shepard," Frank begged as the door opened and footsteps headed their way.

"To show you I'm not completely heartless, is there any last words I can give Nancy on your behalf?" Dom taunted as the deputy stopped at the cell and unlocked the door. "Nothing? That's too bad I'm sure she would have loved to hear some words of encouragement."

"You can't let him go!" Frank yelled at the deputy as Dom stepped out into the hallway. "You have to stop him—he's going to kill my wife!"

"Quiet down, Hardy," the deputy muttered as he shut the door to the cell, the echo reverberating all throughout the room, followed by the sound of Dom's laughter.

"Please, you have to believe me! Get Detective Jensen in here to talk to me! I'm begging you, please!"

Frank slid to the floor as his pleas fell on deaf ears. He had to be honest with himself—Nancy was going to die and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Nancy didn't waste any time as soon as she hung up the phone with Barry. She pulled her laptop out of her computer bag and booted it up, drumming her fingers against the table as she waited for the device to seek out the wireless internet connection.

She knew she was probably being reckless. She should be calling the police and getting an ambulance out to Barry instead of agreeing to go out to the Mills place alone. But she didn't even have proof that the place existed or if Barry was even there. It could all be just an act and she couldn't justify wasting the police department's time if it proved to be just that. There were more than enough actual crimes happening right this second and probably ten times as many cases that were currently on hold.

Besides, while Nancy had suspicions that Dom was behind this latest stunt, she didn't have any proof. And it's not exactly like anyone was going to believe her about him anyway—he was dead to everyone else in the world, except for her.

Pulling up her favorite search engine, she typed in "Old Mills Place, Chicago" and hit the enter button. A few seconds later, the results popped up and Nancy found a listing for an older home that was currently for sale right outside the city limits. Writing down the address, she picked up her purse, phone, and keys, and headed out of the apartment.

As soon as she got in her car, she typed in the address to her GPS, figuring it would be faster than consulting a map. Pulling out of the parking garage, she turned onto the main street, following the directions of the robotic voice.

Nancy wished more than anything that Frank was there with her. She would give anything to have him sitting in the passenger seat and she didn't care how needy that made her sound. She couldn't help the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach, like she was walking into something she couldn't get her way out of.

A sudden thought hit her and she pulled out her cell phone as she continued to maneuver down the road. She needed to talk to Joe and tell him what was going on, if for nothing more than to let someone know what she was doing. She couldn't remember if he still had his cell phone or not or if it had been lost in the car accident. Nancy just had to hope for the former.

"_Hello?"_

"Joe, thank God!" Nancy said, relief in her voice.

"_Nancy, what's going on? Is everything okay?"_

"The police just arrested Frank, saying that he attacked Barry Campbell."

"_The guy who's been writing that book about you? Why would they think my brother attacked him?"_

Nancy turned onto the road leading out of the city. "They said they got a tip leading them to Barry's car. They found a knife with blood on it and a witness said they heard Frank threatening him. They claim that it's enough to hold him."

"_That's crazy!"_

"Tell me about it," Nancy muttered. "And that's not the strangest thing. I just got a call from Barry fifteen minutes ago, asking me for help."

"_Why did he call you? Why not the police? Why aren't you calling the police?"_

"I don't know," Nancy replied, letting that answer suffice for all three of his questions.

Joe was silent for a few moments. _"Nancy, tell me you're not chasing him down."_

"Okay, I'm not chasing him down."

"_Dammit, Nancy! Where are you?"_

"I'm on my way to some place out of the city. It's the old—" Nancy stopped as a beep sounded in her ear. Glancing at the screen, she saw that her call had been dropped, her phone indicating she no longer had any service. "Crap."

Tossing it on the seat beside her, she focused on the road, slowing down as the mechanical voice of the GPS told her she was almost to her destination. Turning onto a dirt drive, she eased her car down, cringing with each pothole she hit.

"This is so not going to be good for my tires," she said bitterly. "Barry is going to pay for this."

Coming to the end of the driveway, Nancy found herself looking at an old dilapidated two-story home that was in desperate need of a makeover. Shutters hung lopsided from the windows while the screen door lay propped up against the wall. Trash littered the yard and the grass looked as if it hadn't been mown in months.

_What are you doing here, Barry? You would have to be at the creepiest house outside of town._

Taking a deep breath, Nancy stepped out of the car, closing the door softly behind her, not wanting to alert anyone to her presence. Keeping her eyes alert for any surprise, she slowly made her way up the rickety stairs, wondering why she even agreed to come here. She'd seen this movie many times and it never ended with a happy ending.

Opening the door, she cringed as it squeaked loudly on its hinges. Reaching into her pocket, Nancy pulled out her small penlight, shining it around the messy interior of the home.

"Barry? Are you here?" Nancy called out softly.

Not hearing anything, she ventured further into the home, checking each room she passed but finding no sign of the missing writer. Coming into the kitchen, the beam of her penlight landed on a door she figured led to the basement.

Swallowing nervously, Nancy edged her way towards it. Reaching out her hand, she gripped the doorknob and opened the door slowly, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Holding onto the railing, she inched her way down the old staircase and into the abyss.

"Barry?"

Nancy frowned when she heard the faint sound of grunting. Moving a little faster, she hurried down the stairs, shining her light around the pitch black room until it landed on a man tied to a chair.

"Barry! Are you okay?" Nancy said softly as she knelt in front of him, noticing the blood on his blue jeans, along with the gaping wound.

Barry grunted through his gag, his eyes wide as if he was trying to tell her something.

Standing up, Nancy reached forward to remove the gag from the writer's mouth. "Barry, what is it?"

"Nancy, you have to get out of here now!" Barry croaked. "Leave me and just get out of here as fast as you can!"

Before the young woman could respond, she sensed rather than felt movement behind her from the shadows. She'd barely turned her head when she was grabbed from behind, a hand covering her mouth, smothering any scream she may have made. The penlight was knocked from her grasp and clattered to the floor before dying, leaving them all in the dark.

"No!" Barry shouted, struggling against the ropes.

"Oh, Nancy…you don't know how long I've been waiting for this moment," Dom whispered into her ear.

Nancy struggled wildly against his grip, desperate to break away from him. Kicking back with her leg, she connected with his shin but it did nothing to shake his hold on her. In fact, he chuckled as if he enjoyed it.

"Let her go, Shepard!" Barry yelled in Nancy's defense.

The next thing Nancy was aware of was a sharp pinch on her arm before dizziness began to overtake her. _He drugged me_, she thought sluggishly as she tried to fight the sedative taking over her system. She tried to make one last ditch effort to break free from Dom's grasp but her body refused to cooperate.

"That's it, my love," Dom cooed in her ear, as her eyes fluttered closed. "Close your eyes and go to sleep."


	14. Chapter 14

**I want to thank every one of you who have read and reviewed. I smile every single time I see a new alert or review and they are really what encourage me to continue with the story. Sadly, I only see about two more chapters of this story before it comes to an end. **

**This chapter is shorter than my previous ones but I simply kept arguing with myself about where to end it. The good thing about arguing with yourself? You always end up winning!**

**That being said, I hope you guys enjoy it! **

**Remember, I still own nothing (except Dom, which I'm willing to give him away) and all mistakes are my own. **

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 14**

"_I'm on my way to some place out of the city. It's the old—"_

"Nancy? Nan, are you there?" Joe said when Nancy's voice cut off abruptly. Moving the phone away from his hear, he looked at the screen to see that the call had ended. "Stupid unreliable cell service…"

Dialing Nancy's number, he waited as the other end rang in his ear, sighing in frustration when it eventually went to the voicemail.

"_Hi, this is Nancy. Leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can!"_

"Nancy, whatever crazy thing you're attempting right now just turn around and go back home," Joe pleaded. "I'm begging you to call the police and let them handle it themselves. Call me as soon as you get this."

Hanging up the phone, Joe sat there for a few moments, thinking. He wasn't going to accomplish a thing sitting in this hospital bed. He had to get up and do something, it didn't matter if he was up to his full strength or not. He just couldn't stop the bad feeling in his chest, like something really bad was about to happen.

Hitting the call button on the side of the bed, Joe threw off his covers with his good arm. Noticing that he was still tethered to the IV drip machine, he yanked the needle out of his hand just as a nurse with a full figure, dressed in teal scrubs, came into the room.

"Mr. Hardy, what do you think you're doing?" she demanded, hands on her hips. She jerked her head to the right to clear the wisp of bangs from her eyes.

"I have to get out of here," Joe said, pushing himself to a sitting position. "Do you have some clothes I can borrow?"

"The doctor hasn't released you yet."

"I don't care. I'll sign out AMA but I have to get out of here," Joe answered. "Now, do you have some clothes I can borrow or do I go out in my gown. Don't think for a second that I won't."

"I can't let you go until Dr. Walker is notified."

"Then notify him!"

The nurse glared at him before excusing herself from the room. Joe slowly made his way across the room and to the tiny closet near the window. Opening it up, he grabbed the bag on the bottom that held his personal items. Reaching into it, he pulled out his pair of sneakers along with the blue jeans he'd been wearing the day of the accident. Unfolding them, he saw there was blood on the waistband but they would do for now.

Just as he finished slipping them on, the door to the room opened and the nurse came in with a small bundle of clothes, followed by Dr. Walker, who was carrying a clipboard.

"I understand you want to sign out against medical advice," Dr. Walker said, frowning at Joe.

"Something came up."

"Something so important to interrupt your healing?"

"You could say that, yeah," Joe said, nodding. "Look, Doc…I don't mean to step on your toes but I wouldn't be wanting to leave if it wasn't an emergency. You just gotta believe me."

Dr. Walker shrugged. "I can't force you to stay. Only you know what limits your body can take right now. I would advise you to get some rest though and not push yourself."

"Believe me, Doc, I'm not about to get out and start leaping over buildings," Joe assured him. "I'll save that for when I don't have this cast on my arm anymore," he added, holding up his right arm.

"Why do I have a hard time believing that?" The doctor sighed. "We'll get the paperwork finished and then you can leave. But if you have any problems at all, I want you in here immediately, understand?"

"Absolutely."

"I was only able to find a pair of sweats and a t-shirt," the nurse said, indicating the bundle in her arms.

"I just need the shirt," Joe said, holding out his good arm for the garment. The nurse handed it to him and left, giving him privacy as she changed out of his gown and into the tee. Sitting on the chair near the window, he slipped on his sneakers, wincing in pain as pressure was applied to the wound in his midsection.

Sitting up, he gasped for air as he rode out the wave of pain. After a few moments, he stood up and gathered the rest of his belongings. By the time he was finished, the nurse was back with his release papers. Signing on the indicated line, Joe once again promised to take it easy and then he was on his way.

He knew where he was going as soon as he stepped out of the hospital. Hailing a taxi, he directed the driver to take him to the Chicago Police Department. He had to somehow convince them to release Frank so they could get to Nancy before it was too late.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Nancy! Come on, Nancy…you have to wake up!"

_Go away,_ Nancy thought, wishing the nagging voice would just leave her alone. _Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?_

"Nancy!" repeated the persistent voice.

Groaning, Nancy intended to tell the voice where they could jump when she felt something in her mouth, preventing her from doing just that.

_What the hell? Am I gagged?_

Nancy tried to bring her hands forward to remove the foreign object from her mouth when she found even that feat to be impossible. Coming to sluggishly, she found that her arms were tied tightly behind her back and further investigation told her she was restrained to some kind of pole. Not only that, but her feet were also bound in front of her.

_What is going on?_

It came to her as soon as the question crossed her mind—she'd been in the basement of the old Mills home, and she'd found Barry bleeding and tied up. She'd tried to get him out when someone grabbed her from behind.

"_Oh, Nancy…you don't know how long I've been waiting for this moment."_

The young woman immediately was alert and struggling against her bonds as she remembered it was Dom that had grabbed her. She never should have come when Barry called—she should have just alerted the police and let them handle everything. And now, she had walked into Dom's trap and without any backup whatsoever.

_Why couldn't you just listen to Joe? He told you to turn around and not go chasing after Barry. But no, you just had to try to handle it yourself. Way to go, Drew._

"Nancy, are you okay?" Barry's soft voice called from somewhere in the dark room.

Nancy grunted to acknowledge the writer then worked her head back and forth against her shoulder to remove the gag. After working at it for a couple of minutes, it finally slipped down around her neck, allowing her to take a deep breath.

"Where is he?" Nancy asked, not sure which direction to aim her question. She didn't like being in the dark like this, being at such a disadvantage.

"I'm not sure," Barry answered, relief in his voice. "He was down here for a while after he attacked you, just staring at you but then he abruptly left without a word."

"Awesome," Nancy muttered, sarcastically. She began working her hands back and forth, trying to get some slack in the ropes holding her to the pole. "Have you had any luck in trying to get free?"

"None, though I do have a couple of bloody wrists to show for my efforts."

"I'm really sorry about this."

"About what?"

Nancy sighed as she continued to work her hands back and forth. "For getting you involved in all of this. It's my fault that Dom got to you."

"You care to explain that one to me?"

"I don't know if I really can. I honestly don't know why Dom grabbed you."

All of a sudden, a bright light flashed before Nancy's eyes and she jerked back in shock. Turning her head away, she tried to blink back the spots dancing before her. If she didn't know better, she could have sworn it was the flash of a camera.

"Don't be shy, Nancy," Dom's voice said softly from the shadows. "After all, the camera loves you."

Nancy's heart nearly leapt into her throat at the sound of his voice. She'd been hoping that this was all just a nightmare, that somehow her mind was playing tricks on her. But no, he was here in the same room with her and she currently had no way of escaping. And it wasn't only herself that she was concerned with—she needed to find some way to get Barry away, too.

"Why are you hiding, Dom? Why don't you come out and face me?"

"I'm not hiding," Dom answered as the camera flashed again, effectively blinding Nancy. "I'm simply standing from a distance and admiring the view."

Nancy blinked again wishing she could get away from the obtrusive flash. He was trying to intimidate her, to make her feel weak. Well, it didn't happen the last time and it certainly wasn't going to happen now. She was going to make sure of that.

"Nancy, are you okay?" Barry's voice asked.

"Oh, look—our friend is worried about you, Nancy," Dom said mockingly as he took another picture. "You know, it really is sweet how concerned he is with your well-being."

Nancy ignored him as she focused on trying to get free and Barry. "I'm fine, Barry. Dom's just being a coward, hiding behind his little camera, trying to see if he can make me crack."

There were a couple moments of silence, making Nancy worry about what was going to come next. All of a sudden a hand reached out and stroked her cheek, causing her to scream in surprise and fear.

"Nancy!" Barry called.

Nancy didn't say anything as the shadowy figure of Dominic Shepard sat down in front of her. Instead, she tried to focus on getting her heart back to a normal pulse, hoping that he couldn't sense how truly freaked out she was. She tried to move away from him but was hindered by the ropes holding her in place.

Dom chuckled, but it was without humor. He then leaned over until she could feel his hot breath on her ear. "Now, do you really think I'm a coward, Nancy?"

The young woman swallowed down the lump of fear that had taken residence in her throat. "Considering you're so scared of me that you have to leave me tied up would say that I'm right. What's wrong, Dom? Afraid that you're going to fail again?"

"You're trying to see if you can make me angry so you can get away, but it's not going to work this time, Nancy," Dom replied as he softly caressed her cheek, making his way to her neck. He turned his face so he was only an inch from hers. "No one's going to ride to your rescue this time. It's just you and me, the way it was meant to be, love."

Before Nancy could react, he hand clutched around her throat in order to hold her in place before pressing his lips against hers. Nancy grunted as she tried to turn her head away from him which only seemed to encourage him even more. He forced his tongue inside and seeing as if she didn't have much of a choice, Nancy allowed herself to give him before biting down on his tongue, hard.

He jerked away from her and the next sensation she felt was his hand as he backhanded her. Groaning in pain, Nancy tasted the coppery tang of blood, guessing she now had a busted lip to show for her efforts, not to mention a throbbing cheek that did nothing for the headache she's woken up with.

"Stay away from her, you bastard!" Barry yelled across the dark room.

Dom sighed. "You know…I'm really getting tired of your voice cutting through every few seconds. What do you say we take care of that little problem, hmm?"

Nancy knew exactly what Dom's threat entailed and she struggled wildly with the bonds around her wrists. "Leave him alone, Dom! He has nothing to do with this! It's me you want—you can have me! I'll do anything you want if you just leave him alone!"

The killer's chuckle was the only sound Nancy heard before the basement was bathed in light. Blinking against the sudden brightness, Nancy's eyes finally adjusted to see Dom standing behind Barry, holding a knife against his throat.

"Dom, please," Nancy begged as she spied a thin trickle of blood running down the writer's throat. "Just leave him out of this."

"I don't think I can do that, Nancy. After all, if I let him go, he's just going to run off and get help and we can't have that, can we?"

Barry let out a whimper as the blade pressed deeper into his throat.

"Please…" Nancy whispered.

Dom smiled coldly before bring the knife up above his head. Nancy and Barry screamed as one as the murdered brought the blade down in an arc before plunging it into the writer's chest. Nancy closed her eyes and let out a hitched sob.

This was something she'd never seen before—no one had ever actually been killed in front of her eyes. It angered and scared Nancy all at the same time. Even if she couldn't stand the man, Barry didn't deserve to die the way he had. It was her fault that Barry had even gotten into this mess and it was her fault that he was now dead.

"How does it feel to have blood on your hands, Nancy?" Dom's voice startled her, causing her to jump. She looked up to see he was kneeling next to her, the bloody knife in his hand as he pushed her hair away from her face.

"Stay away from me."

"I'm afraid not, my love. You and I are going to have lots of fun together, now that we don't have any interruptions."

Nancy just glared at him as he stood back up and walked to the center of the room. For the first time, the young reporter noticed the mound of dirt. Dom reached down beside it and pulled away an old rug, revealing a large, gaping hole. Walking back over to Barry, Dom cut away the bonds releasing the dead man from the chair.

She continued to watch in horror as he dragged Barry's body over to the hole before dropping him unceremoniously inside. Then he picked up a shovel and began dropping dirt into the grave as he smiled at her once again.

"Just as soon as I get this taken care of, you can have my complete, undivided attention."


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone!**

**We got one more chapter to go after this one. There is tons of action, language and violence in this chapter so hold on to your seats. I'm hoping I can get the last chapter out by this weekend but I am not going to promise anything.**

**I really hope you enjoy it and remember, all mistakes are my own! **

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 15**

Joe barely made it out of the cab before he was tearing up the stairs into the Chicago Police Department, ignoring the stabs of pain as they raced up his body. Pain was something that could be pushed aside and dealt with later. While he knew if he wasn't careful, he would end up in the hospital again, right now it didn't bother him.

Stopping at the bullpen, Joe didn't even offer the rookie desk sergeant time to say a word. "I need to speak with Detective Jensen…_now_."

"Detective Jensen isn't available right now."

"Tell him to make himself available," Joe demanded. "Tell him it's a matter of life or death."

"You're going to have to give me more than that," the rookie replied, smiling patiently at the young Hardy. "Tell me exactly what you mean."

Joe sighed. "I don't have time for this."

Before the young man could react, Joe pushed his way past the bullpen and straight back to Detective Doug Jensen's office. The desk sergeant followed him the entire time, trying in vain to get Joe to stop but the young detective wasn't having anything of it.

Joe flung open the door to Jensen's office. "We need to talk."

"Sorry, Detective…I tried to stop him but he wouldn't listen to me," the rookie said, actually looking sheepish. For a second, Joe actually felt sorry for the man but it quickly went away when he remembered what he was there for.

Doug held up a hand. "It's okay, O'Donnell." The detective waited until O'Donnell closed the door to his office before focusing his attention on Joe. "Joe Hardy—last I heard, you were still in the hospital."

Joe shrugged. "I got out. You wanna tell me why my brother has been arrested?"

"I see that Nancy told you."

"Why is Frank here?"

"It's part of an ongoing investigation," the lawman answered calmly. "I can't tell you anything more."

"He didn't have anything to do with Barry Campbell's disappearance and you know it. You should be looking at someone else to collar for that one."

"Do you have information for me?"

Joe ignored the question. He didn't want to tell the truth and have Jensen think he was crazy. At least, not until he could talk to Frank. "I want to talk to my brother."

"I don't think that's possible right now."

"I'm not leaving here until I talk to him," Joe argued, his temper rising and his patience wearing thin. "You know him and right now you're treating him like some scumbag we help you get off the streets every day. I'm doing the right thing by asking you to let me see him but you know I will storm back there myself if you don't let me."

Doug just stared at him and Joe wasn't sure if he was trying to dare him or not.

"Don't cause a scene, Doug. Just let me talk to my brother. I'm begging you here which you know is something I don't do."

"I'll give you five minutes with him."

"That's all I need."

Doug got up from his desk and led the way to the holding cells, Joe on his heels. Waving at the officer stationed there, Doug told him they needed in to see Frank.

The officer chuckled. "He's pretty popular today."

Joe frowned at the comment but didn't say anything as the officer buzzed them in. Stepping in front of Doug, Joe raced down the small walkway, seeking his big brother. Coming to the cell at the very end, he saw the dark haired Hardy sitting on the bench, staring down at his feet.

"Frank!"

"Joe, what the hell are you doing here?" Frank demanded as he stood up and walked to the door. "You're supposed to be in the hospital."

Joe smirked. "Got out for good behavior."

"Time's ticking, Hardy," Doug said to Joe as he glanced at his watch.

"Seriously, what are you doing here, Joe?" Frank asked.

"Nancy called me, told me you managed to get yourself in some trouble."

"Where is she? Shouldn't she be here with you? She wouldn't have let you get out of the hospital by yourself."

Joe didn't say anything.

"What is it?" Frank demanded again, worry creeping into his voice.

Joe sighed. "It may not be anything." He glanced over at Doug, who was watching them intently. "She called me to tell me what was going on, and then she said that Campbell had called her, telling her he needed help."

"Barry Campbell?" Doug asked.

Joe nodded.

"Did she say where?"

"The call dropped before she could tell me." Joe turned his attention to Frank. "The officer outside the door said you've been popular today. Who came and saw you?"

Frank opened his mouth to say something but closed it very quickly when he glanced at Doug. Looking back at Joe, he narrowed his eyes in warning and Joe got the hint immediately. It didn't take a genius to figure out it was Dominic Shepard who'd paid Frank a visit.

"Joe, how bad do you think it is?"

"Very bad—I've tried calling Nancy back but she won't answer. I'm wanting to think it's just bad cell reception but I don't know, Frank."

"He set this whole thing up for her. It was a trap all along."

Joe nodded grimly.

"Will someone please tell me the hell is going on? What's with all the secrecy?" Doug demanded, glaring at the brothers.

"You got video cameras in here, Doug?" Joe asked.

"Of course we do. We keep them rolling at all times for legal reasons."

Joe nodded. "Then you may want to check Frank's last visitor. Not only will you be looking at a dead man but you'll also be looking at the one who really attacked Barry Campbell."

"What are you talking about?"

"Sophie Dawson wasn't the only one behind the murders, Doug. She had someone else pulling her strings, who most likely set her up to take the fall for everything."

"You have a name for me?"

"Dominic Shepard. He was a case from a few years back in River Heights—Nancy's hometown," Frank explained as calmly as he could. "He murdered several people before another police officer supposedly killed him."

"So, what's he doing here if he's supposed to be dead?"

"He was obsessed with Nancy—still is, as a matter of fact. He's tried to kill her two times already and if my feeling's right, he's about to try it again," Joe replied.

"You think Nancy's in danger?"

"No," Frank said, shaking his head. "I _know_ she's in danger. You have to let me out of here to get to her, Doug. If not, you're going to have one more murder to add to your list."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Nancy felt completely numb.

With every shovelful of dirt Dom dumped into the grave, it was like a stab to her heart. Guilt ate at her, tearing away pieces of her each time the shovel dug into the earth. She knew she should have done more for Barry. If only she could have worked harder to get free then maybe he would still be alive, not rotting away in some makeshift grave.

Nancy knew it was only a matter of time before she joined Barry. It didn't matter how long it took, she knew she wasn't getting out of here alive. Dom was going to make sure he was successful this time and he wasn't going to accept anything else. But she also knew she wasn't going to go down without a fight.

If she didn't have backup, that was fine with her. She could fight her own battles and she wasn't about to admit defeat now.

"You sure are quiet over there," Dom remarked as he wiped the sweat away from his brow with the sleeve of his plaid shirt.

"Sorry if watching you kill and bury an innocent man doesn't make me feel too chatty," Nancy shot back. "I'll try to do better next time."

Dom chuckled as he tossed the shovel aside and approached Nancy. "You know, that's what I missed about you, Nancy—that sharp tongue of yours." He reached out and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Well, that and the sight of your lovely face."

"Don't touch me."

"That's going to be the least of your worries. By the time I'm finished, you'll wish I was just touching you."

Nancy took a deep breath to try to mask the fear she was feeling. "What's your endgame, Dom? Why do all of this?"

"I don't have an endgame." Dom stood up and walked over to the table. While he had his back to her, Nancy began working furiously on her bonds, feeling a spark of hope when she felt it loosen just an inch or so. When he turned back to her, he was holding a small, silver dagger.

"How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Fake you own death? Manage to stay under the radar for five years? How did you get Sophie to help you? Did you threaten her?"

Dom smiled as he sat down beside her. "My, my, you're just full of questions, aren't you? Or maybe you're hoping that if I talk long enough you'll find a way to get free?"

Nancy glared at him, not giving him the satisfaction of an answer. She continued to surreptitiously work on the ropes holding her in place, keeping eye contact with him the entire time.

Dom waved the knife in front of her face before tracing the blade along her jawbone before allowing it to rest against her throat. "What can I say? I'm happy to indulge."

Nancy swallowed nervously, feeling the blade press deeper as she did so.

"I have Sophie to thank for everything. And no, I didn't threaten her or intimidate her." The killer grinned. "As far as I know, she actually really loved me. Did everything for me out of the kindness of her heart."

"She killed for you?"

"She really was a pro at it. You should have seen the way she worked a blade," he admitted proudly. "Just one thrust and she always had the kill shot. I have to say, it really turned me on."

Nancy felt the ropes loosen a little more but she didn't let it show in her expression. "That's sick."

"Of course, she didn't like it that I was still hung up on you. Every time I turned around, she was always questioning me, always talking about you, how much she hated you." Dom dropped his voice to a whisper as he leaned closer. "She just couldn't understand what we had, love. What we still have…"

"She's the one who attacked me in the parking garage."

Dom scowled. "It certainly wasn't my idea. She was trying to take matters into her own hands, said she wanted to scare you."

"So, you killed her for it?" Nancy felt one of the ropes slide down her hand and continued her work. _Just a little more…_

"It was long overdue, anyway. I was just looking for the opportunity and it presented itself."

"You bastard."

Dom smiled chillingly. "You know, it didn't really take much. I took this knife and I plunged it into her right here," he explained as he pressed the tip of the blade right above Nancy's heart. Nancy tried to stifle the gasp as she felt it pierce her skin. "And then I could tell that she wanted to scream so I kissed her before she had the chance. I could taste her blood on my lips as she died."

Nancy felt sick to her stomach. He spoke about killing Sophie as if it was ordinary dinner table conversation. She wanted to believe there couldn't be anyone this cold in the world, but Dom pretty much defined that and even more.

"I did it for us, Nancy. Everything I've ever done, it's been for us."

"Stop saying that. Don't you put any of this on me," Nancy bit out. "I didn't want any part of this and I won't listen to you say that you did it for us. There is no _us_, Dom. There never has been and there never will."

A chilling calm came over the killer as he stared at Nancy and she knew that she'd pushed him too far. She could see his hand tightening on the blade and it would only be a matter of seconds before he plunged it into her, silencing her forever.

_I have to get out of here, now!_

Just as he was lifting the blade up, Nancy unraveled the rope from her hands before head-butting him in the face. He fell back from her with a roar, dropping the knife. Quickly picking it up, Nancy cut through the ropes around her ankles and pushed her way to her feet.

Before she could maneuver too far away from him, he grabbed her ankle and jerked her down to the ground. Falling hard, the knife flew from Nancy's grasp and she kicked desperately to get away from him. Just as her foot connected with his body, she felt a white hot flash of pain in her lower right thigh as Dom found the knife and plunged it deep into her leg.

Screaming, Nancy lashed out with her good foot, connecting solidly with his head, stunning him. Realizing she didn't have much time, she jerked the knife out and hobbled towards the steps, frantic to get out of the musty basement.

Each climb sent agony shooting through her leg but she pushed past it, knowing if she didn't move now Dom would catch up with her and that would be the end. There would be no talking her way out of it, no begging.

Just as she reached the door, she could have sworn she heard Dom moving around which fueled her on even more. Throwing open the door, she limped into the main area of the house, looking for something she could put against the door. Spying an old microwave stand, she dragged it over and pressed it against the entranceway.

Glancing down at her leg, she could see blood seeping through her jeans. She didn't know how bad the injury was but she figured if she didn't at least find something to tie it off with, it would become much worse. She couldn't allow herself to pass out from blood loss—there was plenty of time for that after she got away.

Picking up a discarded chair, Nancy sat down and set to ripping up her long sleeved tee, glad she'd decided to wear layers today. Tearing several long strips, she began to wrap them around her lower thigh, tying them tightly to stem the flow of blood.

A loud bang had Nancy nearly jumping out of her seat. _Crap, it's Dom! Why didn't I hit him harder?_

"You're going to die, you stupid bitch!" Dom screamed as he continued to ram his body against the door.

Realizing the door wasn't going to hold him much longer, Nancy worked more quickly as she finished tying off her wound. Just as she lifted herself from the chair, the door burst open and Dom was standing there, panting hard and holding the knife.

"That leg doesn't look too good, Nancy," Dom remarked, looking at her bandage job. "I wonder how much longer you can last before you pass out. Me? I could go all night."

Nancy hobbled backwards, keeping her eyes on him the entire time.

"You know, I was going to make it as painless as possible for you." Dom kicked an old shelf out of his way, causing Nancy to jump as it crashed against the wall. "But you just had to go and mess things up, make them harder than they had to be."

"Why? Because I wouldn't sit still and let you slit my throat?"

Dom shrugged. "I should have done it from the very beginning."

"You would think you'd learned something after the last time," Nancy said as she continued to back away. "Instead, you like to play your little cat and mouse game. Isn't that how you always manage to screw it up?"

Dom didn't say anything as he continued to watch her.

"Face it, Dom…you're not going to win this time. It's going to end the same way it always does," she continued to taunt him. Not paying attention, her injured leg caught on an old rug, nearly making her fall as pain lanced through her.

"Careful, Nancy…you wouldn't want to fall," he mocked before launching himself towards her.

Somehow, she managed to regain her balance just in time before he could grab her. Turning around as best as she could, she limped away from him, desperate to put some distance between them and find some kind of weapon she could use.

"I don't know why you insist on prolonging this, Nancy. It's inevitable. Why don't you just accept your fate and die like a good little bitch?"

"Screw you," Nancy bit out as she hobbled into the living room. There, she spotted and old fire poker lying on the ground in front of the fireplace. Just as she was reaching for it, a hand fisted in her hair and yanked her back.

"This really isn't going to way you planned it, is it, love?" Dom whispered in her ear. He raised the blade to press it against her throat.

Before the knife could get there, Nancy struck back with her elbow, hitting him in the midsection. Dom let go of her hair as he tried to catch his breath and Nancy threw herself to the floor, intent on getting the iron weapon.

Reaching over for it, Nancy didn't have time to defend herself as Dom landed a kick on her side. Collapsing to the ground, she closed her eyes tightly against the pain as he turned her over and straddled her. _Oh, God…this is going to be it!_

"Oh, Nancy…if you could see the fear on your face right now," Dom smirked as he reached for her leg and pressed his fingers into the wound, eliciting a scream from her. "And now it's pain and fear. I don't see any of that determination from earlier, love."

Out of the corner of her eye, the young reporter spotted the fire poker. Reaching out a desperate hand, she whipped it around and caught him on the side of the head, causing him to fall back. Scooting out from under him, she grabbed the weapon with both hands, ready for his next attack.

Snarling, as blood trickled down his face, Dom held the dagger in the air. Just as he was bringing it down for its final, fatal thrust, Nancy shot up with her own weapon, gasping in shock as it went through his gut.

Jerking back from her, Dom looked down in surprise before looking at her with a small smile. "It feels good, doesn't it, Nancy? Knowing that you're capable of killing someone? Can't you just feel the power coursing through your veins?"

"Go to Hell."

Coughing, blood spluttered from Dom's lips as he fell back against the floor. Nancy couldn't tear her eyes away from him, as his icy blue ones locked onto hers in death. She didn't even glance up as the door to the house burst open and Frank and Joe rushed in, Doug Jensen right behind him, along with a handful of other police officers. She barely felt it as Frank's arms wrapped around her body, rocking her gently as he yelled for a paramedic.

The only thing she could comprehend was that she had actually killed a person. It didn't matter that he had deserved it and she was only protecting herself.

Nancy Drew had killed another human being.


	16. Chapter 16

**Well, here we are. We have finally reached the end of this little tale. The reception for the last chapter left me completely speechless and I was so happy and proud to know how much you enjoyed it. It was a lot of fun to write and I even scared myself a little bit with it!**

**I know it's taken me well over a year to get it finished, but I had every intention getting back to it and I thank everyone one of you who started with me, picked it up in the middle, or picked it up at the end. Each one is very special to me, even those of you who didn't like it. A writer needs all kinds of feedback and I take every bit of mine and use it to its fullest.**

**I also need to thank my best friend and medical expert, Tree66. She was there for me so I could bounce ideas off of and answered all of my medical questions when they arose. She was also a constant source of encouragement and she kept me going on this.**

**I really hope you enjoy this last chapter. I'm tossing around a few ideas in my head for another story but it may not be for a while since I am pretty busy with college and work right now.**

**As always, mistakes are all my own.**

**Thank you for your support and enjoy!**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Chapter 16**

Frank Hardy glanced at his watch and sighed. It had been almost three and a half hours since they had found Nancy at the old Mills house, thanks to the GPS in her phone. Three hours since she had been rushed to the hospital. Three hours since she'd had surgery to repair the damage Dom had done to her leg. Three hours since he had been able to see her. And over three hours since she had said a word to him.

Luckily, the damage to her leg hadn't been too severe. Dom had managed to knick the popliteal artery, which while it caused a slow, steady bleed and made walking difficult, Nancy's quick thinking about trying it off prevented more damage from being done.

Frank had never been more grateful to see her in his life. He'd just had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that when they got to her, it was going to be too late. Even seeing her there, covered in blood, was better than not seeing her at all. What made it even better was seeing that Shepard would no longer be terrorizing them.

What worried Frank though, was the fact that Nancy hadn't said a word to him. He'd tried to coax something out of her back at the Mills house, but she simply refused to say a word. He'd watched her as she'd stared at Shepard's body, almost as if she was under some kind of trance. A feeling of dread had washed over Frank's body as he'd realized that Dom's death had been no accident.

Nancy had used her hands to kill another human being. While Frank knew it was something that was unintentional and most likely saved her life in the end, he also knew that Nancy would blame herself for it. She wouldn't see past the fact that she had killed another living person, no matter how despicable he was.

Frank was going to have to be there to support her, to make sure she got through it. And that was exactly what he was going to do. He refused to sit back allow her to blame herself, to allow the guilt to eat away at her. He wasn't about to lose Nancy to that darkness; he wouldn't allow Dominic Shepard to have that victory.

"Are the police still in there with her?" Joe asked as he came around the corner, a cup of coffee in each hand. Handing one of them to Frank, he sat down beside his brother before taking a sip of his own brew.

Frank nodded as he sat back in the stiff vinyl chair. "I wish they would hurry up."

"You still don't know what's going on?"

"No."

"Do you really need her to tell you, Frank?" Joe asked, casting a sideways glance at him. "I mean, we saw the scene in there and we can pretty much put two and two together."

Frank remained silent, staring at the coffee in his hand. He knew what Joe was talking about but neither one of them had vocalized it yet, whether they were afraid to actually acknowledge it or not.

"She killed him, Frank," Joe continued softly.

"I know, but she didn't have a choice, Joe."

"I'm not arguing against what she did. Hell, if she hadn't done that, it would have been her we found—"

"Don't…just don't." Frank couldn't bear to hear those words. He didn't want to have the confirmation of the fear he'd been feeling, knowing that his wife could have very well been dead when they'd gotten there.

The brothers sat in silence, both preferring to stay lost in their heads than continue on with the current topic of discussion. Frank was taking a long sip from his lukewarm coffee when the door to Nancy's room opened and Detective Jensen and another officer came out. Standing up, Frank tossed the Styrofoam cup into the trash can.

"What happened?"

Doug nodded at his companion and the officer took off towards the bank of elevators. Then, he focused his attention on the brothers. "Nancy gave us her account of what happened at the house. She told us where we could find Barry Campbell's body."

"He's dead?"

"The bastard made her watch as he killed him," Doug said, disgusted. "And then to add to the torture, she was forced to watch as he buried him."

Frank felt his fists clench at his sides. "That son of a bitch—if he wasn't dead already—"

Doug held up a calming hand. "Believe me, there would be a long line of people who would have gladly offered to bring him to a stop."

"Doug…Nancy, she's not…" Joe let his voice trail off.

The detective shook his head. "We won't be pressing any charges against her. In my book, what she did was purely self-defense. Besides, she's punishing herself enough as it is."

"But it wasn't her fault."

"I've tried telling her that but she's not listening." Doug sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe you'll have better luck with her."

Frank nodded. "Thanks, Doug."

"I'll let you know if we need anything else from her," Doug said before patting Frank on the shoulder and heading towards the elevators.

Exchanging a look with Joe, Frank led the way to Nancy's hospital room, knocking softly before entering. She had her head turned away from the door, staring out at the window. She didn't even acknowledge the brothers as they came in.

"Nancy?" Frank called softly, walking around the bed. His heart nearly broke at the void expression in her blue eyes, ones that usually held such promise of life. Her injured leg was peeking out of the blankets, wrapped in gauze. A purplish-blue tinge highlighted the left side of her face and her bottom lip was split.

"Come on, Nan. We're not used to seeing you this quiet," Joe said, attempting to lighten the mood. "You always have something to say for any kind of situation."

Frank looked sharply at his brother and Joe took a step back. "Sorry, I was just trying to break the ice."

"Nancy, you have to talk to me," Frank said, sitting in the chair beside her bed. "How can I help you if you won't talk to me?"

"No, Frank…"

"No? What do you mean no?"

Nancy finally turned her eyes to him. "You can't help me, Frank. No one can."

"It wasn't your fault, Nan. You have to believe that. You have to understand that."

"They're just words, Frank." Nancy closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. "You don't understand. I killed another_ human being_, Frank."

"You didn't have a choice!"

"That's just it, Frank. I _did _have a choice! I had about a hundred different choices."

"What are you talking about?" Frank noticed that Joe took a step closer out of the corner of his eye.

"I could have hit him, knocked him unconscious. I could have given him an injury that didn't kill him. We both know that I have had plenty of self-defense classes." Nancy finally stopped long enough to take a breath. When she looked up at Frank, a tear was streaming down her cheek. "I didn't have to kill him, Frank. If I could have just held off for one minute more, then maybe…"

"Hey, hey, hey…calm down, okay?" Frank said, standing up and taking her in his arms as she began to sob. "Everything's going to be okay now."

"He was coming at me and I just lifted the poker up and I stabbed him," Nancy continued. "I felt it go into him and he was actually smiling at me as he died."

"Nancy, stop."

"I'm no better than he is, Frank."

"No, Nancy! No!" Frank gently took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "You are nothing like him, do you hear me? I will not stand by and allow you to compare yourself to that psychotic son of a bitch."

"But—"

"Nancy, you did what you had to do in order to save yourself. He didn't give you a choice in the matter," Frank explained, firmly yet gently. "If it had been me, I would have done exactly the same thing. Joe, too."

Joe nodded. "I wouldn't have even needed a reason," he muttered.

"Joe," Frank said, glaring at his younger sibling.

Joe just shrugged nonchalantly.

Frank returned his attention to Nancy. "If you hadn't done what you did, I wouldn't be talking to you right now, Nan. Instead, I would have been claiming your body at the morgue." Frank saw the hurt flash across her blue eyes but he couldn't care about that right now. He had to be brutal in order to drive home the point he was trying to make. "You are one of the most caring people I know in this world. You were put into a situation that most everyone would have given up on. You didn't—you fought back."

"This isn't something I can just bounce back from," Nancy said.

"No one is expecting you to. You're not supposed to get over this, Nancy. It's supposed to eat you up." Frank smiled softly at her. "If you had doubts before, then you can't anymore. That right there, that's what makes you different from Dom and the other monsters out there. You have a conscience and you have guilt—he never had that. That's what makes you human, Nan."

Nancy grabbed his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you."

"This is really starting to turn into a Lifetime movie," Joe muttered. "Are you sure there aren't any cameras hiding in here?"

Nancy chuckled softly, which garnered a smile from both boys.

"So, when did the doctor say you could get out of here?" Frank asked, changing the subject.

"This afternoon, if things continue to go the way they are."

"How is your leg feeling?"

"It hurts a little," she admitted. Then she glanced over at Joe. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good as new." Joe held out his arms, revealing the blue cast covering his right arm. "You know, aside from the broken arm and the nice, gaping hole in my abdomen."

"Yeah, you're back to normal, alright," Frank said, rolling his eyes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

_**Two days later**_

Nancy knew this was a bad idea.

Not only did she know that, but she had the voice in her head telling her so, not to mention Frank who'd been against it from the very beginning. But she had to do it—she needed closure for herself. She needed to know it was okay to move on with her life.

If it had been anyone else, Nancy would have thought the scene to be rather sad. No one ever wanted to die, having no one show up to the funeral. But for Dominic Shepard, it was fitting. He was receiving a pauper's funeral, no one ever coming by to claim the body.

Nancy wasn't coming to the funeral to offer her support or grief. She wouldn't mourn him for one split second. Instead, she was there to get validation—she had to see with her own eyes that he was dead and about to be planted firmly into the ground. She had to know that he would not be able to terrorize anyone she cared about anymore.

She had to close this chapter of her life.

It didn't matter that the medical examiner, mortician, or the police assured her that Dom was dead. She wouldn't believe a word of it until she could witness this final act with her own eyes.

"Nancy, are you really sure about this?" Frank asked as he came around the car to help her out. Opening the back door, he pulled out a pair of crutches and handed them to her.

"No…but that's exactly why I have to do it," she answered, as she lifted herself out of the car. Bracing the crutches under her arms, she moved away so Frank could close the door.

"We don't owe this to him, Nancy."

"You're right, but I do owe it to myself."

Nancy and Frank slowly made their way across the small cemetery, where a casket was waiting to be put into the ground. Aside, from the two cemetery workers and the funeral home attendant, a priest was standing near the grave. The whole picture didn't look right to Nancy, but she guessed everyone every one deserved funeral rites, no matter how evil and despicable they were.

The priest smiled at them as they stopped near the grave. "I was beginning to think no one cared about this young man."

Nancy didn't say anything, allowing the priest to remain blissfully unaware of the person he was committing to the ground. Instead, she looked at the funeral home attendant. "Can I see him?"

The balding man actually looked flustered. "Uh, I-I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't th-think that would be appropriate. We-we usually reserve the viewing of the body f-for the wake."

"Please…I just…I need to see him."

The attendant still looked at her strangely but eventually complied. Opening up the upper half of the casket, he stepped back to allow Nancy to see inside.

Taking a deep breath, she hobbled forward thankful that Frank was at her side. Peering into the casket, she was slightly repulsed to see a smile on Dom's face. Maybe he was happy he'd died or maybe it was the fact that he had gotten to take a little of her to the grave.

Whatever it was, Nancy didn't like it.

_I hope you rot in Hell, you bastard._

Stepping back into Frank's arms, Nancy nodded at the attendant. He stepped forward to close the casket and the priest then opened up his Bible and began reading.

Nancy tuned it all out as she watched the cemetery workers lower the casket into the ground. Dominic Shepard was finally going where he truly belonged. She actually had proof. She was seeing it with her very own eyes, not relying on the word of someone else.

A sense of calm washed over her as they began to shovel dirt into the grave. For the first time, in a very long time, Nancy felt at peace, as if she could truly start living her life and enjoying it. Sure, she knew she had a long road ahead of her and the nightmares would plague her for nights to come.

But she knew if she just took it one day at a time, everything would eventually get better. She had to have that faith and confidence. If not, then she could say that was just one more thing being committed to the ground.

And she wouldn't do that.

She wouldn't allow Dom to take that away from her.


End file.
